Restoration
by duchess66
Summary: In an alternative universe its Clark's last year of high school and he didn't want to spend it like the previous two years. Since the death of his father, along with the loss of his powers, his life had seemed to exist within a bubble of self-protection and self doubt. Then Chloe's frustrating, totally annoying cousin, Lois, came to town, turning his whole world upside down.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've had this idea in my mind for a while but put it on hold because of my other story. However, I just had to write it. I wasn't sure whether to upload it or not? I really wrote it for my own entertainment and I'm not sure if it's anyone else's cup of tea :) I thought I would share it anyway. It's kind of different, not strictly canon. **

**If you want me to continue please let me know. I'm happy to oblige. I know exactly where I'm going with this story.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**~~ Prologue ~~**

* * *

.

.

"_He's lost a lot of blood," a disembodied voice drifted through his consciousness._

_Since when did he ever bleed? His body felt heavy, changed somehow. There was pain, his leg felt on fire. His chest hurt, unbelievably. He knew what pain was but it had only ever been fleeting, and it only ever happened when he was exposed to green Kryptonite. _

"_We found multiple fragments of some sort of blue rock in the gash to his left leg."_

_That voice again, it sounded so strange, where was he? Forcing his heavy eyelids open was an effort. Images of a place drifted through his mind. He tried grasping hold of it._

"_We think we have all of them out, and the blue shards don't appear to be dangerous."_

"_Will he be alright?"_

_Mom?! She sounded so sad, her voice broken, as if catching between sobs._

"_The gash to his leg was deep, there was some muscle and tendon damage but with time it will heal, as with the fractures to his ribs."_

_Fractures … muscle damage, but he was invincible, nothing could hurt him, nothing except … Something was horribly wrong. The pain in his heart, it wasn't physical, it was much much worse. He had to know …_

"_M-M …"_

_It was enough to get her attention._

"_Clark!"_

_He turned his head, her face appearing before him._

"_Oh Clark," she sobbed, brushing his hair back from his face._

"_W-Wh … hap-pen …ed?"_

_He'd never seen her so upset before, but if he was okay, what else could it be ….? _

_Then it all came back to him in a flash. The tornados, his father was missing. He found him in the basement beneath the church. Nixon, the reporter was threatening to expose his secret. There was green meteor rocks everywhere. His father … was there … trying to help him when the whole roof collapsed upon them._

"_Dad!"_

_His eyes widened in horror, and the look on his mother's face confirmed his worse fears._

"_N-No …" his voice shook._

_It couldn't be true, it wasn't true!_

_Fresh tears rolled down his mother's cheeks. "I'm sorry C-Clark … he didn't make it."_

_He didn't believe it. It was a lie! This wasn't real! It wasn't happening to him! He shook his head, his heart feeling as if it'd been ripped from his chest. He would find his father … he would … pushing the covers aside he attempted to sit up. Sudden sharp splinters of pain shot through his ribs. He clutched them, tears springing to his eyes. What was happening to him? Holding out a hand in front of him his eyes widened in horror at the numerous lacerations, and bruises that ran up his arm. No. No. No. _

_Tears blurred his vision as his eyes met with his mom. Her face full of pain._

"_I couldn't save him." The words catching in his throat._

_Within the space of a few seconds his whole world was crashing down around him. He was useless, completely powerless. _

_His father died protecting his secret and he … couldn't … even … save … him._

"_M-My fault," he stammered, "my fault, all my fault …"_

_The fierce pain that tore through his heart was unbearable, sobs racked his body. His mother's arms slipped around him, holding him, but he felt no comfort._

"_No Clark, please, it's not your fault, Clark, Clark, listen to me!"_

_They were just words. It's wasn't true. Nothing she said would change that. What he had lost couldn't be replaced._

_He would never hear his father's voice again, those words of wisdom, never feel his arms grab him in a giant bear hug. He'd never see his laughing face, never experience the love and encouragement again. _

_His father was dead._

_He would live with the guilt forever, because it really was … all of his fault._

_._

* * *

~~ Two years and three months later ~~

* * *

.

"Clark!" his mother called, her voice wafting up the stairwell. "You are going to be late for school."

Her voice stirred him from a heavy slumber. What did she say? Late for something … that's right; school.

He suddenly sat up, pushing the hair out of his eyes.

Damn, school, he'd slept in. He ran his hands over his face, feeling like death warmed up. He'd had a horrible night sleep, waking at two in the morning from a nightmare. It took forever to fall back to sleep. The vivid dreams always did leave him feeling utterly wretched. Although they had lessened with time, it was still small comfort.

He had tried drinking a warm glass of milk.

It hadn't worked.

He ate left over apple pie.

It hadn't worked.

Flicking the television on, he subjected himself to half an hour of golf.

Still nothing.

Sighing, he had searched through the bookcase for the most boring book he could find; _How to win at Chess._ Yep, that should do it.

It worked, but it was still close to four in the morning before he finally fell back to sleep.

Pushing the bed covers aside, he dragged his legs over the side of the bed, his feet landing on the soft carpet. His eyes fell on the jagged six inch scar that snaked down his left thigh. A constant reminder of what he'd lost; both his father and his powers. A deep ache filled his heart. Even after all this time, he still had that empty void in his life. Sometimes if felt like he was looking down into a deep abyss that could never be filled.

Shaking his head, he pushed the memories away and stumbled to the shower. This was his final year of school, he really didn't want to spend it like he had the last two. Buried deep within a rut that he'd struggled to drag himself out of, burying himself in farm chores and school work.

"_This year Clark," Chloe had told him on their first week back, "Is our last, we have to make the most of it."_

If only he could. If only the nightmares would stop. Just maybe he'd stand a chance of getting over it?

* * *

"You look tired." His mom observed as he walked into the kitchen.

"I'm okay," he returned over his shoulder.

Opening the fridge door he reached for the carton of orange juice. The less he discussed the dreams the better. Turning around he found his mom watching him. He knew that concerned look on her face all too well.

"You had that dream again."

It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded as he poured the juice into a glass. His mom didn't say anything, after all this time words were no longer necessary. And the last thing he felt like doing was going to school.

"Maybe I should drop out of school, help out more with the farm," he began, tipping the glass to his lips.

"No!" came his mom's resounding reply. "I won't have you sacrifice your education to run the farm."

He glanced across the room at her. "It would save money."

Taking the few steps that separated them, she straightened his shirt collar. "It's your last year Clark, a special time in your life, you need to enjoy it."

"I'm trying," he said with a hitch in his voice.

A smile crossed her face. "I know you are." She gave his hand a squeeze. "Now eat some breakfast before you leave."

He glanced out the window, spying Chloe's car pulling into their driveway from the main road.

"No time, Chloe's on her way here."

He reached for his bag on the counter.

"Clark," she began.

"It's not as if I'm going to fade away to nothing, mom," he sighed, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be fine."

Pulling the door open, he stepped out onto the patio. As the car approached he noticed Lois siting in the passenger seat. His heart sunk. What was she still doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be going to College? He'd been subjected to her taunts pretty much all of the summer holidays. She drove him crazy. She was the most annoying person he knew.

He couldn't wait for her to be gone, but now it looked as if fate had other plans, unfortunately.

"Just great," he muttered to himself. "Another dose of Lois Lane."

He braced himself for what would come next.

.

.

* * *

.

**A/N: Please leave a review if you like! I know this prologue is pretty angst driven but the whole story isn't. It's kind of has everything in it, drama, plenty of humour and lots of growing friendship moments between Lois and Clark.**

**On a side note, for some strange reason I am getting no fanfiction prompts to my email account. It's been like that since I uploaded my last chapter for my other story on Thursday. So if you have tried to send me a message, and I haven't replied you'll know why. I'm not sure if it's just my email account and/or if other people are receiving email prompts when I upload? **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews to date! And seeing as I had already written this chapter you get a quick update. That doesn't always happen! **

**I generally prefer writing the 'character journey' type story, and it always comes more easily for me. When the writing muse kicks in I just go with the flow. Not sure what anyone will think of it? Hey but if you like it please let me know. Feedback is always welcomed and very much appreciated!**

**Enjoy!**

**.**

* * *

**_Chapter One._**

* * *

**_._**

"I can't believe my dad is making me repeat Year 12," Lois griped.

Chloe gave her a quick glance as she drove to the Kent farm. She bit down on her bottom lip, she hadn't had the chance to tell Clark about Lois staying; yet. Somehow she couldn't see him being happy about it.

"And why are you picking up the farm boy?" Lois continued, "Should make him walk to school, he needs the exercise."

"Play nice Lois," she admonished.

"I'll try," she shrugged, "But seriously cus, I just don't know what you see in him? He's … so straight."

Chloe frowned at her, "He's also happens to be cute, not to mention he's a pretty good writer for the Torch too."

Lois merely snorted.

"And he's been my best friend since we were 12," she pointed out. "So don't give him too much of a hard time."

Which would probably last a whole minute, Chloe mused. Lois couldn't help herself when it came to teasing Clark, which was sort of puzzling.

They pulled up at the farm. Clark was about to descend the steps, when Mrs Kent hurriedly stepped out the door.

"Clark," she called, "You forgot your lunch."

"Great, I'm starving," Lois said with a grin, and proceeded to wind down the car window. "Oh hey Mrs K!" she called out.

"Hi Lois," Martha Kent waved back with an amused smile.

Clark approached the car, glancing at Lois, a displeased look on his face. Yep, it was as she thought, Chloe Mused.

He climbed in the car.

"Hi Clark," she greeted over her shoulder, as always just the sight of him sent a warm tingling feeling coursing through her. Damn this attraction to him.

"Hi Chloe," he returned as he put his seat beat on.

Pity he didn't see her as nothing more than a friend, sighing she put the car in gear and drove on.

Lois turned in her seat to look at him.

"What is with you and plaid shirts Smallville?"

He opened his mouth, about to say something, when Lois' glanced down at his lunch bag. He knew that predatory look in her eyes. Before he had a chance to put it in his school bag, she snatched it from him.

"I didn't have breakfast," she said with an attempt at a 'nice' smile, for her that was.

He watched her pulling out a number of yummy food items. "Your mom packs the best lunches," she continued.

"Just help yourself Lois," he muttered, dryly.

She glanced at him, an annoying smirk of her face. "Just think of all the calories I'm saving you from."

"Yeah I don't get how you can eat so much and be so skinny," he grumbled.

"I have a fast metabolism," she returned with a grin, her eyes skimming over him, "Unlike you, yours must be non-existent."

Clark lent back in his seat, annoyed.

"And it has nothing to do with the cigarettes," Chloe quipped from the driver's side.

Lois' stopped chewing, that shut her up. He felt a moment's satisfaction.

"I've given up," she mumbled.

Chloe glanced sideways at her, a deliberate half smile on her face. "Since when?"

"Since …" Lois began with a wave of her hand, "since, well I'm going to."

Clark couldn't help but give a snort, "Yeah right."

She glared at him. "Just you wait, Clark Kent, I'll be nicotine free by the time this stupid school year is over."

He frowned at her words. _School year is over_ – what did she mean by that? "You're going to school?"

"Yep," she returned, pulling out a blue berry muffin from the bag. "Turns out I didn't have enough credits to graduate."

That didn't surprise him. "I guess that happens when you spend more time out of school than in it," he couldn't help saying.

She merely shrugged. "Well we can't all be goody two shoes, straight 'A' students Like you Clarkie," she rolled her eyes, "talk about being such a bore."

It was his turn to glare at her. "Least I'll graduate," he muttered.

Reaching out a hand he grabbed the muffin from her before she had the chance to bite into it. "And this is mine."

He took a bite, and gave her a sardonic smirk.

She folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Enjoy it while it lasts, Smallville, you now have to put up with me for the whole year."

He stopped chewing. She was going to Smallville high. Of course she would be, there were no other schools around. Damn. He swallowed.

"Chloe, is this true?"

"I'm afraid so," she returned over her shoulder. "Lois will be living with me."

"Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery," he muttered.

A wide smile crossed Lois' face. "Don't sweat it Tubby." Reaching out a hand she snatched the muffin back from him, and bit into it.

"It has my germs on it," he pointed out.

She just shrugged. "Your so clean cut, Smallville, I doubt you have that many."

He scowled. She smiled in that annoying way he seriously hated.

"You probably haven't even kissed a girl yet," she continued in a teasing manner.

"Chloe, did you really have to bring her," he whined.

Maybe he should start catching the bus. He didn't know what was worse, being shoved around on the school bus or being teased by Lois?

* * *

"I can't believe this will be our last year of high school," Chloe sighed as they walked down the corridor.

Clark was glad about that. School had really sucked these last two years, and his eyes stared longingly after Lana as she strolled by. Then maybe he'd stand a chance to push Lana out of this thoughts forever.

"Forget it Clark," Chloe muttered under her breath.

Was it that obvious?

"Who is she?" Lois asked.

"Lana Lang, cheerleader, goes out with the captain of the Smallville High football team."

Lois raised an eyebrow and glanced at him. "And Clarkie has a crush on her."

He sighed and shook his head.

"So typically male, Clark."

"Just forget it alright," he snapped.

"Touchy," Lois muttered under her breath.

And he had to put up with this for the rest of the school year!

His thoughts drifted back to Lana. They had been friends once. He'd even saved her from the tornado. Back when he still had his powers. But after the death of his father he'd shut himself off from the world. When he returned to school the following year he had no idea on how to approach her. They sometimes exchanged a 'hello' when passing in the corridor, but that was about it. Besides she always seemed to have a boyfriend, and generally that of the popular kind, which left him out of the equation.

Sighing deeply, he followed Chloe and Lois into the Torch.

"Hey guys," Pete exlaimed as he entered the room.

"Hi Pete," he returned, slinging his bag from his shoulder and onto his desk.

His eyes rested on Lois, who had made herself perfectly at home, sitting on his chair, putting her feet up on his desk.

"What's Lois doing here?" Pete whispered in his ear.

He forced a grin to his lips. "Lois, failed high school."

"I didn't fail high school, Smallville," she retorted, "I just didn't go half the time."

"Same thing Lois."

Pete shot him a look of sympathy. "I feel for you, Clark."

He patted him on the back. "But, hey maybe this will take your mind off it," he continued, holding up a pamphlet. "I was thinking we should sign up for the football try outs," he continued.

Clark frowned. "We?"

"You are both seriously not going to try that out again are you?" Chloe piped up from her desk. "From memory that didn't turn out well back in our freshman year."

Pete didn't even acknowledge that, but Chloe was right and not for reasons she was thinking.

"It's out last year Clark, we need to live it, make our mark."

"I think I've already left enough marks," Chloe quipped as she typed away on her keyboard. "And stepped on enough toes."

She certainly had, but his stories were always more sedate. He, on the other hand, didn't want to offend anyone. _'Always the nice guy,' Chloe would often tease._

"What about it Clark?" Pete continued.

"Pete, you know I can't," he sighed, "I have farm chores to do. I don't have time for practice."

"You'd make a great Linebacker, you've got the height for it."

"And the weight," Lois added from her spot on the chair. "Which is more lard than muscle at present."

He shot her a glare.

"What," she shrugged, "I'm trying to help."

"Try outs are next month," Pete stated.

He was really insistent about it, but it just wasn't really his thing anymore, that boat had sailed by long ago.

"I don't know, it's not that easy for me, and I'm not fit enough."

Hearing a chair scrap back, he glanced over to Lois. She had now stood to her feet, and was giving him the once over, making him squirm. No doubt she was about to give her two bits worth.

"Not at present, but you could still get fit enough in that time."

And there it was, he glowered at her, ignoring the thankful look Pete shot her way. Did she always have to pry into his affairs?

"Then there's Lana," Pete pointed out, "It's your last chance, Clark."

He sighed deeply, and shook his head.

"Pete's right Clark," Lois added, "And I can help you get fit."

Was she serious?! He could only imagine how well that would go down.

"You know I was an Army brat, and a have a black belt in Martial Arts."

His mouth opened as he tried to give back a snarky answer to that. She proceeded to punch him in the arm. "I'll see you at six in the morning."

"Um … Lois, I don't think …"

She had the audacity to pinch both his cheeks, a wide grin on her face. "You are going to thank me one day."

He didn't even know how to answer that.

"This will be your year, a year you'll never forget."

With her in it, that would be sadly true. Shooting him a parting grin he watched her waltz out of the room. He stood there stupefied. Chloe, laughing from her desk broke him out of this trance. He glanced her way, she was clutching her sides.

"What have I've just gotten myself in for?" he murmured, still in a state of shock.

"Oh Clark," she gasped, "Don't worry Lois will sort you out."

* * *

He spent the morning trying to find a way to get out of those stupid football try outs, and Lois getting him fit. Seriously, he could only see that ending up in disaster.

He was still mulling it over as he stood in the lunch line, no thanks to Lois. Seeing as she stole all of his lunch, forcing him to have to buy his. Then a waft of familiar perfume greeted his nose, and he glanced up to see Lana standing directly in front of him. She turned slightly in his direction. Their eyes met and held. Say something, he silently murmured, and don't stuff it up. Don't get distracted by how pretty she is, or her beautiful hair.

"Hi Lana," he smiled.

She smiled back, a good sign. "Oh, hi Clark."

"How were your holidays?" he asked.

"Great, and you?"

He nodded. "Good."

"Looks like you spent them gaining another ten pounds, Kent," Brett jeered from behind.

His face reddened.

"Just ignore him," Lana softly spoke.

He looked at her, noticing the pity in her eyes. She felt sorry for him, that's all it was. Who was he kidding? And pity; he'd learnt to hate that look in the last two years of his life. His jaw clenched.

"I'm used to it," he muttered.

There were no more words exchanged between him and Lana. He felt humiliated. Was this how he really wanted to spend his last year of high school? Just like the previous two, a loser and a joke.

Lois was right, as much as he hated to admit it; this was his last year. Maybe it was about time he did something more than bury himself in his studies. He would get fit and sign up for those football try outs next month. Even if it killed him, even if he had to be subjected to Lois Lane far more than he'd like.

* * *

His mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner when he entered the house. He was greeted with the tantalising aroma of roast beef. Since arriving home at 3.30pm, he'd spent the last three hours doing farm chores. After dinner, he would have a shower, and then spend another three hours doing homework. That's how his days were spent, an endless cycle of the _same all, same all._

His eyes drifted to his school bag, sitting on the desk in the lounge room. Football would give him something else to focus on, but what if he failed at that? And did it really matter? No harm in giving it a shot, and what if, by chance, he was actually good at it?

There was a time when it was all he wanted to do, back in his freshman year. He'd begged his father.

"_I know that you can be careful, but what if there's an accident? Look, uh … Clark, I know this has got to be really hard for you, but you got to just hang in there like we promised."_

"_I'm sick of hanging in there. All I want to do is go through high school without being a total loser."_

Reaching into the bag, he pulled out the permission slip. Not like it mattered now. He no longer had his powers, he didn't have to worry about running at half speed, or hitting anybody. He was boringly normal, insignificant Clark Kent that nobody noticed.

Walking across the floor, he approached his mother. She looked down at the permission form, her gaze shooting to his face with surprise.

"Probably a waste of time," he muttered. "But I thought I would give it a shot, you did tell me to enjoy my last year."

Wiping her hands on her apron, she took the permission form from him.

"I think it's a good thing."

"Yeah, and I don't have to worry about hurting anyone now," he added.

A shadow stole across his mother's face. She had struggled to come to terms with his father's death as much he had, maybe even more. But she was good at putting up a tough façade, for him, he knew.

"I think your father would be proud," she continued, making his stomach twist into knots.

He nodded, about all he could manage. She gave his hand a light squeeze. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He had to get out of there.

"I'm just going to have a shower," he murmured, and made a hasty retreat.

* * *

_He was flying, through the clouds, the lights below twinkling. He felt so light, so free. There wasn't a care in the world up here. Everything paled into insignificance. Yet, it was all so clear now. He wasn't human. He was sent to earth for a reason. He just had to find out what that was?_

"_Kal-el," a voice whispered on the still air._

_He gaze drifted upwards, towards the heavens. To where all the answer's lay. Holding his hands forwards he shot up into the sky, the earth falling away beneath him._

The sudden, shrill sound of the alarm startled him out of the dream. It took a moment to get his bearings, the fragments of the dream fading away into the mist. He turned one bleary eye to the alarm clock; 5.30am. Lois, he inwardly groaned, she would be here at six.

Dragging himself out of bed he stumbled to the bathroom, hoping she would forget all about it.

He brushed his teeth, catching his reflection in the mirror.

'_I'd give anything to be normal.'_

Except the death of his father. But that was the price he had ended up paying.

Being human with all its frailties was … not what he thought. It hurt. Was he meant to feel? If he had never come to earth. What would have been? Who was he?

When he looked in the mirror he always felt like he could only ever see in part, never the full picture.

Turning away from his reflection, he reached for a towel. Since his father had died, he hated looking at himself. If he had been normal his father would never have lost his life trying to protect him. That constant reminder had stayed with him every day.

* * *

Lois was good for her word. She rocked up on his doorstep at 6.00am. A bright smile on her face.

"You ready, Smallville?"

How that nickname irritated him. She knew it did, which is why she always called him by it.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he muttered, closing the door behind him.

"Great, I need you to give me a hand lifting the boxing bag out of my boot," she continued.

He followed her to her car, wondering why she would want to even train him. At times she confused him.

"What's the boxing bag for?" he asked.

"Great way to take out your frustrations, Clark," she returned over her shoulder. "Instead of stuffing your face with food when you're feeling pissed off, you take it out on the boxing bag."

He felt annoyed that she had pretty much summed it up for him. Watching her lug the bag out of the boot, he grabbed it by the other end.

"So is smoking your way of dealing with things?"

She glanced at him, as they carried the bag to the barn.

"I started when I was 15. It's my father's fault. He said if he ever caught me smoking, he'd kill me, so in a fit of teenage rebellion, I started, and since then I haven't been able to stop."

He could imagine her being a handful. He felt a pang of pity for her father.

"You always rebel, Lois?" he asked.

She grinned. "You always do as you're told, Clark?"

They were completely different to each other, he mused, two opposing poles of a magnet.

"You and I are like chalk and cheese, Smallville," she quipped, "Only I'm the chalk, you're definitely the cheese."

Oh, ha, ha.

"Yeah I can see that, chalk makes that really horrible annoying screeching sound on the black board that hurts your ears," he grinned back at her, "definitely you."

"Your full of laughs this morning, Smallville," she muttered, then smiling in a way he didn't like, "but don't worry, I know how to get pay back."

He swallowed. He must be seriously delusional to let her train him. He could see it ending in disaster. What had he gotten himself in for? And why?

* * *

Once in the barn, they strapped the boxing bag to a rafter. Dumping her duffle bag onto the ground she began rifling through it.

"Boxing gloves," she said, handing them to him.

He gingerly took them from her. She stood up. Her eyes scanning over him.

"We'll go for a light jog, but first I need to take your picture," she grinned, holding up a camera.

He frowned at it. "Why?"

"To monitor your progress, now take your shirt off."

He jumped back. "What!" he gasped, "No!"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "C'mon Clark, no need to be modest."

And have her see him with no top on, no way. She'd never let him live it down.

"It's the best way to monitor your progress, don't you ever go on those body building websites?"

He shook his head.

She sighed again. "Of course you wouldn't. Well it's about time you did."

She looked directly at him, with determination. "Now take your top off."

"No."

"Don't make me do this, Smallville," she began, approaching him.

"W-What are you …" but the words ended there as she began trying to unbutton his shirt.

He tried to swot her hands away. "Lois," he gasped with indignation.

"Stop being so melodramatic, Clark," she grunted.

Lois had managed to unbutton the top two buttons when footsteps sounded. He looked up to see his mother standing there, a stunned look on her face.

Lois turned towards her. "Oh hi Mrs K," she smiled, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

He hastily did up the two buttons she'd undone, meeting his mother's questioning gaze.

"This isn't what you think," he quickly said, his face reddening.

"Yeah, I'm just helping Clark get fit," Lois added.

His mother put a tray, she was holding, on to the bench, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Clark mentioned that you would be coming around in the mornings."

That's an understatement, he'd more like whined about it, nonstop, for half an hour.

"_I think it'll be good for you Clark," she had replied, "Lois is a likeable girl."_

_Was his mother serious?!_

"I was just bringing you some breakfast."

Lois skipped over to the bench. "That's so sweet of you Mrs K."

She picked up a waffle. Clark went to do the same when she smacked his hand away.

"Oh no Clark, you're not eating that."

His eyes shot to her face, annoyed.

"I don't mean to offend you, Mrs K, but waffles are not good for his waistline, they are loaded with calories."

His jaw clenched. How was he ever going to survive this; her?

"Clark, is now officially on a diet."

He saw an amused smile twitch on his mother's lips. "So what do you suggest, Lois?"

"Protein," she exclaimed, "Two poached eggs on wholemeal toast."

"Okay," his mother began, still smiling, "I'll have it ready for you when you finish up here, Clark."

He nodded, about all he could manage. Lois turned to him and smiled brightly.

"Now, about that shirt, Clark."

He sighed deeply, there was no point in fighting her and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"You promise you won't show it to anyone?"

"I'm not keeping it," she snorted, "You are Clark, it's to spur you on to want to change your life for the better."

He shot her a sardonic look.

Lois bit down on her lip as he removed his shirt. Poor Clarkie, he really did look so put out. He threw his shirt over the stool and looked at her.

"Just get it over and done with," he muttered.

For just a brief moment she felt a tad sorry for him, he looked so uncomfortable. He really needed to lighten up. And much to her surprise, he actually didn't look too bad. He did carry a bit of weight around his stomach but he had a broad chest, nice arms too, must be all those farm chores. With a bit of working out he had the potential to have a hot physique.

"Why are you staring," he frowned, "I know it's bad."

She shook her head. "Actually Smallville, you could have a build for a quarter back."

"Yeah right," he snorted, "Just take the photo Lois, I'm starting to get cold."

Holding up the Polaroid, she pressed the button. She pulled the photo out and began shaking it. Clark hastily retrieved his shirt and put it back on.

She handed the photo to him. "You should pin it up somewhere."

Was she serious? He almost snatched the photo from her, gave it a quick glance before putting it on the bench. He was shoving it in a drawer, out of sight, the first opportunity he had.

"Now all we have to do is take your weight," she continued, pulling out a set of scales from her bag.

"W-What," he stammered, could this get any worse?

He looked down at the scales. "I'm not getting on them."

She sighed. "You can be really stubborn," she grumbled, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to where the scales sat on the ground.

"The moment of truth, Clark," she grunted, "You can't live in denial forever."

Yes he could. He was perfectly happy living in denial. "Can't we like do this in a months' time?" he protested.

"No, just get on them, Smallville."

And she said he was stubborn. "You are bossiest girl I've ever met," he muttered, but he did as she said, because he knew she wouldn't let this go.

He reluctantly stood on the scales and the pointer swung around till it came to rest on 240 pounds. Just great, he inwardly groaned. Now not only had she seen him topless she also knew what he weighed.

He looked up to find her scribbling in a note pad.

"What are you doing?" he frowned.

"Writing it down, what's the date?"

"Ah 30th August."

He stepped off the scales and resisted the urge to give them a swift kick. She shut the note pad and handed it to him. "Put this with the photo."

Taking it from her he placed it on the bench, feeling even more disgruntled. Turning around he came face to face with her.

"Now let's go for that run," she grinned.

* * *

He tried keeping up with her. His ego was at stake here, what was left of it that was. But it had been a long time since he'd last run anywhere, and he had a stitch. He had to stop.

Bending over and resting his hands on his thighs, he tried to catch his breath.

Lois stopped in her tracks, turning to face him.

"C'mon Clark, we've only ran one mile."

"I thought," he panted, "Y-You said a light run."

She raised an eyebrow. "That is a light run."

He swallowed and straightened up. She walked up to him and patted his arm.

"I can see I have my work cut out here," she commented. "Still, I like a challenge, now let's run back to the farm."

She took off and he groaned. This was going to kill him.

* * *

"So how did the training session go?" Chloe asked as he entered the Torch.

He could see the amusement dancing in her eyes.

"Lois is …" his words broke off there as he tried to find the best ones to describe her, and his morning from hell. "Like a pit bull at a bone."

A small laugh escaped Chloe's throat.

"I swear I'm gonna end up tearing my hair out."

"Don't do that," she quipped, "It's your best feature."

A compliment, he needed one, his ego had been pretty much demolished this morning.

After the accident it had taken him a long while to adjust to a life without his powers.

He didn't know what it was to be out of breath from physical exertion. He didn't even know what his limitations were. But afterwards, he soon found out just how debilitating it was being like everyone else. He'd spent his whole freshman year struggling with who he was, what he was; an alien from another planet. He longed to be normal. The moment his father had shown him the spaceship he supposedly arrived to earth in, had changed his life.

'_You're real parents weren't exactly from around … here.'_

He still recalled the way his heart began pounding in his chest. His father couldn't be serious?

'_Where are they from? What are you trying to tell me, Dad … that I'm from another planet? And I supposed you stashed my spaceship in the attic."_

'_Actually, it's in the storm cellar.'_

_His father pulled a sheet from the object, he had often wondered about. 'This is how you came into the world, son.'_

_A small sleek space craft lay upon a dusty old table. Sudden horror gripped him when realisation took hold. 'Wait. This is a joke right?'_

_He wasn't even human!_

Now, ironically, he was, sort of. But it still didn't explain anything. Why did he suddenly lose his powers? Where was he from? Did he really have a home, somewhere, out there in space?

The amount of hours he'd gazed through his telescope, staring into space, wondering, waiting for something, anything … an answer.

"Earth calling to Clark." Chloe's fingers snapped in front of his face.

His shook his head to clear it, reining in his wayward thoughts. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"God, the morning must have been really traumatic for you, Clark, going by the look on your face."

He blinked. "No, I was just thinking about something else."

Chloe didn't push it. She understood his reluctance to discuss his father, which is probably what she was thought he was thinking about.

He would have been lost without her. She was the only person, apart from Pete, who didn't pity him.

The silence was broken when Lois came bouncing into the room.

"Oh, hey, Smallville, how are you feeling?"

"Just terrific," he grunted through gritted teeth.

She smiled. "It'll get easier."

Chloe glanced at her in amusement. "So, I take it the morning went well?"

Lois turned to her, her pony tail swaying. "By the time I'm done with Clark, he'll be hot stuff, and Lana won't be able to take her eyes off him," she smiled.

Chloe glanced his way. Why did she have a bad feeling about this? Face it girl, it's because you don't want Lana to suddenly start noticing him, you want him to notice you. Not that that would happen anytime soon. She had pretty much resigned herself to being just his friend. Anyway, since his father had died Clark hadn't be the same. He always had been a bit shy, but the guy basically became a social recluse.

If it wasn't for school, no one would even see him. She attempted to drag him out of whatever flunk he happened to be in. She knew he would eventually get over his father's death, and it wouldn't be overnight. She was living testimony of that.

But something had fundamentally changed about him the day of the tornado's, something more than just the death of a parent, just she couldn't figure out what it was. It sort of sadden her in a way she couldn't even begin to fathom. There was a time, when doing a story on adoption, using Clark as her subject that she had dug a little too deep. He hadn't liked it, was even overly defensive. It had confused her. What was he hiding? And there was something kind of mysterious, something very different about Clark Kent. But now she knew without a doubt he was just like everyone else and whatever her misgivings had been; they were just that.

"Where is your lunchbox, Smallville?" Lois' voice, brought her out of her musings.

"Well I hate to break it to you, Lois, but since you gave my mom that big long list on what I could and could not eat, it's pretty boring now."

Lois patted his stomach. "I'm just looking out for your waistline, Smallville."

Chloe hid a smile at the disgruntled look on his face.

"Somebody has too," Lois continued with a teasing glint in her eyes.

He shot her an indignant look.

"And don't worry, Clarkie," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "I'm not going to steal your lunch."

"It didn't stop you yesterday," he retorted. "I had to stand in the lunch line."

Lois snorted. "Seriously, Clark, you need to toughen up soldier."

They were at it again, Chloe mused, as she typed away on her latest story. Always arguing, always debating, always … her hands went still; Clark Kent matching wits with Lois Lane.

She'd never seen that side to him before, now that she thought about it. And Lois had a way of bringing him out of his shell.

Lois, was just what Clark needed in his life right now. And knowing her cousin, she would be the only one to sort him out. It looked like getting Clark into that football team was her knew mission in life.

Lois always thrived on completing a mission. Poor Clark had no idea was he was getting himself in for.

.

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* * *

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**A/N: Love to hear some feedback, good or bad, as long as it's constructively critical. This was fun to write, and having Lois trying to sort out Clark is always loads of fun. Plus I love writing the banter. Given the way Lois can't resist teasing Clark always had me thinking that she'd pretty much denied her feelings for him from the get go. I kind of address that in this story, and I give the friendship a lot more depth, as you'll see in the next chapter.**

**I'm still not receiving any fanfic email prompts, I haven't since the 28th of April! If you are following this story and you didn't get a prompt in your email box please let me know so I can send a message to the fanfic PTB and try to sort this problem out.**

**Thanks for reading. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews to date, which have been really encouraging! I would have like to edit this chapter further but then it would be another couple of days before I'd upload, due to my crazy busy work life and with mother day this Sunday.**

**If I get some of the football terminology wrong you'll have to overlook it a bit. I'm an Australian and don't follow American football at all. I had to do some research on line for this chapter to get my head around it. But I have to admit that the actor who played Clark Kent is built like an Australian Football full forward, sigh. Okay, I'll stop fangirling there :)**

**Enjoy!**

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**.**

* * *

_**Chapter 2.**_

* * *

.

After one week, every muscle in his body hurt. But in a good way. He was sleeping a lot better too. No more nightmares. His dreams often involved him having his powers again. Running so fast he could feel the force of gravity as a real tangible being. He'd never felt so free, and also alone, searching for answers he could never find.

Reality, on the other hand, he could barely run two miles, without dying afterwards.

The punching bag proved useful. It was a handy distraction to take his mind of eating. Even Lois was slightly tolerable now, when she wasn't dishing out orders like a drill sergeant. She liked to talk. It unnerved him whenever she went quiet, which was seldom.

She approached things with a single minded determination, him along with it.

They were boxing that morning, not something he really relished. She was doing most of the hitting. He was constantly defending.

"C'mon Smallville, my younger sister hits harder than you."

"I don't want to hurt you."

She snorted, then laughed. "Don't worry about me."

"But you're a girl," he protested.

She landed a swift one in his stomach, winding him. He bent over, glaring up at her.

"Still think I'm a mere girl," she taunted.

Sometimes he had to wonder. "Okay so you're a boy that happens to look like a girl."

She tossed her head back. "No, I'm all girl."

A scowl crossed his face. "You're not really … like other girls, Lois."

She grinned. "I guess that happens when you have a General for a father."

That explained some things. A lot of things actually. He gingerly rubbed his stomach.

"C'mon tubby, give it your best shot."

He gritted his teeth. Right, that did it, he wasn't playing Mr Nice guy anymore. Straightening up, he began hitting back, going on the offensive, forcing her back. It felt sort of good, maybe there was something to this boxing after all. For a few minutes they were evenly matched. He had height to his advantage, but she was fast and quick on her feet.

"Where did you learn to fight like this?" he grunted, as he tried once again to get through her defence.

"I grew up with a lot of Army brats, and moved around a lot, you learn to hold your own."

She certainly had. He saw the blow coming, and blocked it.

She stepped back, a look of approval crossing her face. "Much better, Smallville. You are going to need to toughen up if you ever hope to be a line-backer."

He still had his doubts about it.

She had him pushing up weights with a bar bell next, another Lois addition to the barn.

"So your dad was a general huh?" he muttered as he pushed up the bar bell.

She leant over him, putting her hands on the bar, adding to the weight.

"Yeah."

Her ponytail swung over her shoulder, tickling his nose.

"Can't half tell," he returned, pushing up and her with it. "Is that how you ended up so bossy?"

She let go, and turned away but he could almost swear he'd seen a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. It made him curious. Putting the bar back in place, he sat up.

"After my mom died when I was six, he pretty much made me step up and take charge of running the house, sorting out my younger sister, keeping her in line."

Picking up a water bottle she took a swig.

He didn't know her mother had died. She tended to talk about trivial stuff, the colour of her underwear, making him blush. She seemed to like to do that. She talked about the times she was in trouble, which was a lot. Her endless escapades, but seldom anything of a personal matter. Seeing the brief glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes was a first.

"That must have been tough?" he murmured.

She shrugged. "I survived."

It explained her no nonsense, take charge attitude and the bossiness. She had a tough outer shell. And for a moment she intrigued him. She really wasn't like anyone he'd ever encountered before.

A low grumble broke the silence. She raised an eyebrow.

"Is that your stomach or mine, Smallville?"

"Definitely yours."

She was the skinny one after all.

A sheepish look crossed her face. "I kind of missed breakfast, was running late to get here."

His curiosity increased. He couldn't figure her out. Why was she doing this?

"Why are you training me?"

She took another swig of her water bottle, before her eyes rested on him.

"Chloe thinks you're the best thing since slice bread."

A frown dented his forehead. He still didn't get it. Chloe wasn't even remotely interested in football. She hated the whole, what she called, superficiality of the stereotypical jock and cheerleader.

"You're her best friend," she shrugged, "besides I thrive on a challenge, and getting you fit is definitely …" she smiled in that annoying way, "a challenge."

She was also the most perplexing girl it had been his misfortune to meet. But he was still confused.

"Chloe's not into football."

"Yeah, but she's into you."

His frown deepened, just where was Lois going with this?

"There was a time back in our freshman year when I took her to the Spring Formal, and we kind of almost kissed, but then she told me she just wanted to be friends."

Lois rolled her eyes and plonked herself next to him on the bench press.

"And you didn't happen to like Lana Lang at that time too?"

His face reddened slightly, she had hit the nail on the head.

"Case resolved."

He sighed in annoyance, shaking his head.

"Look, I don't know what you see in the little skinny cheer leader," she continued with a dismissive wave of her hand, "I guess she's pretty in a sweet, icky vanilla kind of way but when has she ever looked twice at you, Clark?"

He began to squirm. "It's not as if I'm anything much to look at, Lois."

Lois hands came to rest on her hips, a steely glint in her eyes.

"It's not the outside that counts, Smallville, but the inside."

She surprised him. It was the last thing he'd expected her to say. Then she stabbed a finger in his chest.

"You'd pay to remember that."

Right, as if she could talk. "You said I was boring, Lois," he pointed out, "A straight, goody two shoes student, and the list goes on, and those are the inside things."

"I'm not talking about what I see in you, Clark! I'm talking about …" her voice broke off there, and she bit down on her lip.

Crap, but she had almost slipped up.

"Forget it, if you're too dumb to see it then there is no point in me trying to make you."

Her stomach growled again.

"You should stay for breakfast," he offered.

She'd just reamed him out and he still asked her to stay. He was … he was, not like any other guy she had ever known.

"Clark," she began, "I just insulted you."

"I thought you were just being your normal self, Lois," he quipped, with a half-smile hovering on his lips.

_Cute, _was the only word that came to mind, _nice lips._

She shook her head to clear it. She must be really sleep deprived to think that!

"Okay, I'm starving, let's go have breakfast."

They trudged back up to the farm.

"Is your mom making waffles?" she asked, hopefully.

"I doubt it," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets, "slim pickings in our house these days."

He didn't sound happy about it, she smiled to herself.

"No thanks to you," he continued.

"I'm just looking out for you, Smallville."

He glanced sideways at her.

"I thought you said the outside didn't matter," he returned.

Trust him to throw her words back in her face. But in a strange way she sort of liked it.

"But it obviously matters to a certain insipid cheerleader," she couldn't help pointing out.

He rolled his eyes. "It might not you know."

She snorted. "C'mon Clark you don't have to look much further than the boyfriends she chooses."

Lois had a point, he acceded.

"We were friends in our freshman year," he continued.

It seemed so long ago now.

"Really? And you know ... never tried to make a move then, never tried to kiss her?" she teased.

His face flushed. "No."

She couldn't help teasing him, he was so … naïve, and innocent.

"Have you ever kissed a girl, Clark?"

There was silence. Suddenly stopping, she turned to face him in disbelief. "Wait! So you've never kissed a girl?"

He blushed. "I nearly kissed, Chloe."

She shook her head. "You're 18 …"

"17," he corrected.

Her eyes met directly with his. "That's kind of sad, Smallville."

"I want it be … with someone special."

She laughed. "It's just kissing, doesn't always have to mean much."

He blinked, an incredulous look crossing his face.

"I've kissed loads of boys," she shrugged, "And was never in love with them."

"So you kissed a boy who you weren't even going out with?" he spluttered.

Anyone would think she'd committed the crime of the century, she mused.

"I'm not into the whole going steady thing."

He blinked, again. She rolled her eyes, he really was so … green.

"I like my independence," she continued.

"So why did you kiss them then?"

"I felt like it at the time."

Smallville, really was so clueless, and a thought took hold. She was going in for shock factor.

"It's this easy, Clark."

Grabbing him by his coat collar she pressed her lips against his. Hmm, not bad, he tasted like fresh minty toothpaste. His lips were soft, hesitant before he pulled back, a look of complete shock on his face.

"Now you can say you've kissed a girl," she grinned. "I told you I was looking out for you, Smallville."

Turning on her heel, she continued walking, smiling to herself. She liked ruffling his feathers.

Clark stook there still in a state of shock. Had she really just done what he thought she had? She was the most perplexing … annoying … oddest girl he'd ever known.

"It was just a kiss, Clark," she said over her shoulder.

Making his legs move, he caught up with her.

"Are you always so … brazen," he muttered, matching his stride with hers.

She smiled up at him. "You didn't like it?"

His mouth opened, she was enjoying his discomfort. He could clearly see the amusement in her eyes.

"I don't know," he stammered.

It was too sudden and kind of brief, and it was Lois, annoyingly frustrating Lois. She had caught him totally unawares.

"You need to practice at it," she continued.

Colour crept into his cheeks.

"And I suppose that is with you," he snapped back.

Shrugging her shoulders, she smirked in that annoying way he hated.

"Oh, I could teach you a thing or two."

His face went a deeper shade of red, was she serious?

A grin broke out across her face. "Lighten up, Smallville." She punched him in the arm. "Besides you're not my type."

"You have a type?"

Grabbing him by his coat sleeve she tugged him along.

"I can't picture it in my head, Lois. Because he'd have to be something else to put up with you."

If she could act so nonchalant about the kiss then so could he. Besides, it really wasn't that much of a kiss. She obviously, as usual, enjoyed teasing him.

Once inside he grabbed the carton of juice from the fridge and poured them both a glass.

"Are you sure that its sugar free?"

Snatching the carton from him, she began reading it. He inwardly sighed. She was driving him crazy with this diet stuff. She was driving him crazy in general.

"I don't know, mom does the shopping."

She frowned. "This has a ton of sugar in it Clark, you shouldn't be drinking it."

"Yes ma'am." He gave a mock salute and she scowled at him.

He watched her march into the lounge room. She appeared to be looking for something.

"What are you doing Lois?"

"I need paper and a pen," she returned over her shoulder.

"In the draw on the right side of the desk."

No doubt she was going to be writing another lengthy note to his mom about exactly what juice to buy, and what not to buy.

He placed the carton of juice back in the fridge.

Lois' eyes landed on the photo frame that stood upon the desk. She reached out a hand and picked it up. It was Clark, with what must be his father. He never talked about him.

"Hey Clark," she called.

He closed the fridge door and looked at her.

"Is this you?"

She held up the photo frame, a slight frown dented his forehead.

"Yeah," he murmured. "With my dad."

She crossed the floor to where he stood, photo frame in hand.

"You were actually slim there," she said, but what surprised her the most was how happy he looked.

There was something different about him. She couldn't put her finger on it. Glancing up at him she noticed the shadows in his eyes, the sadness. It stirred something deep within her, it wasn't pity. She knew what it felt like to lose a parent. It was more a shared sympathy.

"I guess I was," he sighed.

What had happened to change that? But for once she shut her mouth because she was beginning to come to the slow realization that it was the death of his father that had caused the drastic changes in him.

"Sorry," she murmured, "I didn't mean to pry."

Turning abruptly she put the photo frame back on the desk, cursing her lack of tack.

"It's alright Lois," he spoke, "It was years ago."

How easily he read her thoughts. She shoved her hands in her pockets.

"Just I know what it's like, how much it hurts."

His eyes met hers, and there was a sudden warmth there. It made her feel a little breathless. There was no denying that Clark Kent did have amazing eyes. Eyes that reflected every emotion he was feeling. Right now, she was drawn to gazing into them. Why hadn't she noticed them before? She should have, Chloe was always going on about them.

"_You almost sound like you have a crush on him," she'd said the other day._

_Chloe had gone strangely quiet. She'd turned to her in shock. "Oh my god you do!"_

"_Not so loud," she muttered, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her along the corridor._

"_I've liked him for years," she continued._

"_But he's … so …"_

"_Straight," Chloe finished for her._

"_Yeah."_

"_You just don't know him. He has the kindest heart, and he's the most loyal friend, not to mention he has a totally gorgeous smile."_

_Lois had been stupefied for a moment before shaking her head. "Wow, you really do have it bad, but Chloe all he has eyes for is that stuck up cheer leader."_

"_I know he doesn't think of me that way."_

_That had kind of made her mad. Here her cousin liked Clark Kent with all of his flaws, and all he had eyes for was some pretty, petite, stuck up cheer leader who didn't look twice at him._

"_Oh, I'm going to tell him …"_

"_No!" Chloe exclaimed, stopping her in her tracks._

"_You can't say anything, promise me, Lois. He can never know!"_

_She sighed, not liking it but she couldn't betray her cousin. "Okay."_

"_Right now you have him focused on something for the first time in over two years, and that is a good thing."_

_She frowned at her cousin. "Why, what happened two years ago?"_

"_His father died. He's never really been the same since."_

Suddenly she felt very awkward. Making her legs move, she walked passed him and lightly punched him in the arm.

"So where is that breakfast, Smallville."

* * *

Lois was talking, non-stop, at the breakfast table. His mother had ended up making them breakfast, and they now sat at the table eating. His mom's eyes met with his, a hint of amusement in them. With Lois here the morning was anything but its usual quiet time.

"You should stay and have breakfast with us every morning, Lois," his mom spoke.

He nearly choked, his eyes watering, before resting on his mom. What had she just done? Did she not know that Lois was the bane of his existence?

"Really," Lois gushed, "You're the best Mrs K."

"Well it's the least I can do, seeing as you give up your mornings to train, Clark."

His mother shot him a pointed look. "Which is very thoughtful of you," she continued.

Something akin to shyness stole over Lois' face, as if she wasn't used to compliments. Then he remembered that her father was a general, and she had lost her own mother at six years of age. His mother was kind, she probably needed that. For a brief moment he glimpsed what he could only describe as; vulnerability in her eyes. It oddly touched him, making her appear more human.

* * *

Clark was practicing passes with Pete on the oval. Something they had been doing for an hour every day after school.

He caught a glimpse of Lana out of the corner of his eye. She was chatting with her boyfriend, Chad, the big football hero. Chad, with his stylish cut fair hair, football shorts hanging low on his hips. So full of confidence, as he leaned across Lana, pressing his lips to hers.

A swift jealousy over rode his senses. Feeling the frustration mount at his own inadequacies, he put boot to ball and kicked as hard as he could towards the goal posts. The ball soared through the air, over the heads of the coach training a couple of football players on the field. Much to his astonishment the ball went straight through the middle of the posts.

He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, not even knowing he could kick like that.

"Wow, I guess Lois' training is starting to pay off," Pete remarked behind him.

Clark, slowly turned around to face him. "Yeah I guess it is," he replied running a hand up the back of his neck. Not that she had trained him how to kick a football.

"Clark Kent!" boomed a loud voice.

He recognised it as the coach's. He was in trouble now. Turning around, he watched Coach Jones marching across the oval towards him.

"What the blazes was that?!"

He swallowed. "I-I … was just …"

"Where did you learn to kick like that?"

He hadn't.

"You kicked that ball from 50 yards out."

"It was just a fluke Sir, coach," he stammered.

Coach Jones stood in front of him, assessing him. "I see you put your name down for the football try outs."

"Yes Sir."

"You have a solid build."

That he did, he inwardly sighed.

"You put down for a Linebacker, but with a kick like that I want you also to try out for a place kicker."

His mouth dropped open. He couldn't be serious, it was just a one off thing. He was angry at the time. Like he had said, it was a fluke kick.

"See you at the try outs Kent, don't let me down."

He still couldn't process it and watched Coach Jones walk away.

"Whoa," Pete whistled, alongside of him, "You could possible make the side, Clark."

Nah … could he? He kicked that ball on his own strength, no super powers. But it was out of his anger, then a thought took hold. All he had to do was imagine Chad kissing Lana.

* * *

_Someone was crying. It sounded like a baby. He walked through large pillars of ice that reached up into the sky. It was beautiful. He'd never seen such a place before._

_The crying became louder, his eyes rested on a small spacecraft. It looked familiar. A baby lay in it, face scrunched up as it let out another wail._

_Sympathy welled up in his heart. Poor little thing, all alone. He knew what that felt like. _

"_Shss," he murmured, running a hand gently over the baby's soft downy hair. Once chubby hand grasped his finger. The tears gave way to a toothless grin, the baby gave a loud squeal, swinging its hand with his finger stuck in it, back and forth._

"_You have a tight grip little fella."_

_The baby startled gurgling. Clark could feel the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. Retracting his finger, he slipped both his hands under the baby's armpits and lifted him up. _

_Staring at him in wonder. "Who are you?"_

_The sky suddenly spun around, childish laughter echoed in his ears._

"_Do it again, dada."_

_His father's face appeared before him. Swinging him high up in the air, for a moment sudden fear gripped him. What if his father didn't catch him? But it was a fear short lived. He father always did, always had._

"_Clark," someone was calling, "Clark! Wake up!"_

His eyes sprung open. What … the … He rolled over, blinking, dazed. Lois stood there, arms folded. His eyes widened, then flew to the clock; 6.15am. He quickly sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"I … I …"

"Slept in, yeah I got that much, Smallville," she returned.

Suddenly realising he wasn't wearing a top he quickly pulled the doona up, feeling self-conscious.

Lois rolled her eyes. "Seen it all before, Clark, unless you happen to be naked under there."

"No …" his voice broke off there when she pulled the doona off him.

"Boxer shorts," she grinned, amusement in her eyes.

"Lois," he muttered, indignantly.

She turned away, crossed his bedroom floor, reaching for a top slung over the chair. He hastily got out of bed. Still annoyed with her coming into his bedroom. Did she have no concept of privacy?

She flung the top at him. "Here put this on."

He caught it. "You know I can dress myself."

She was rifling through his drawers. "You sure about that, Clark," she returned.

Could she possibly be any more frustrating?

"What are you doing?" he asked, pulling the top on.

"I'm looking for a pair of shorts."

"I don't have any."

She slowly turned around, frowning. He sighed deeply, and reached for his tracksuit pants at the end of the bed, cursing the alarm clock for not going off.

He was expecting some snarky remark but she was quiet. That wasn't a good sign. He glanced at her, her eyes were staring at the scar on his leg. Damn, she had seen it.

"That's some scar, Clark," she spoke, her eyes meeting with his, "I never took you for being vain though."

"That's not why," he murmured, pulling his tracksuit pants on. "Just that people ask questions, questions I don't want to answer."

A puzzled frown dented her forehead. "Why?"

He shook his head. "Because it brings back memories."

It didn't take long for her to put two and two together; his father. She had asked Chloe about it the other day. The day of the tornados, Clark's father was trapped in a basement under a collapsed building. Clark had tried to get him out when the roof collapsed on to the both of them, killing his father, but Clark had survived.

That must have been hell for him. Seeing the pain in his eyes now, she was sorry for invading his personal space. Will you never learn Lois, she silently chided.

An awkward silence followed, she noticed the bleak look in his eyes. It wasn't right to see him so. It stirred something deep within; compassion.

"Of your father," she softly spoke.

He nodded, his hair falling in dark waves around his face. There was something oddly beautiful about him. She took a deep sharp breath, resisting the urge to fling her arms around him and hold him till the pain in his eyes subsided. Taking his hand in hers, she squeezed his fingers.

"You know what you need," she said.

Confusion crossed his face.

"A long hard run."

* * *

Monday morning rolled around. Lois was at his doorstep dead on 6.00am, as always. She was certainly punctual. They trudged out to the barn. Once there Lois pulled out the scales from her bag.

"It's been two weeks, time to monitor your progress."

He looked at them with dread.

"It can't be that bad, Smallville."

He had been good up until several days ago. The little conversation with Lois about his father had triggered off the strong desire to eat, and he hadn't quite gotten it back in control yet. But arguing with Lois was futile.

He stepped on them, the pointer landed on 237 pounds. He noticed the frown cross her forehead.

"Only three pounds in two weeks," she remarked, her eyes fastening on his face.

"Either your metabolism is really on the blink, Clark, or you haven't been doing all the right things."

"I've been exercising every day," he stated. "With you."

Her eyes were still boring directly into his. He really could see her joining the Marines. She'd be good at it.

He sighed. "Okay well the last few days I've sort of been really hungry, and Mom's cooking can get hard to refuse."

"Clark!" she exclaimed. "Try outs are in two weeks."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I know."

"I told you to use the boxing bag when you get all mopey," she continued, gesturing at it.

He scowled at her. "What makes you think I've been all mopey?"

She bit on her lip. "I've just noticed you haven't been quite yourself these last few days."

She was pretty shrewd, he realised.

"Ever since we talked about your dad, which we are not going to mention again, seeing it sends you heading straight for the fridge door."

Tugging his arm, she pulled him out the barn door. "Today we are going to do two lengths of the road and back."

Since when had she figured him out so easily?

* * *

There was silence as they pounded the dirt road.

His running had really improved in just two weeks, but she felt compelled to push him harder. She was trying to figure out why his father's death had such a detrimental effect upon him. Increasing her stride, she glanced over her shoulder.

"If you really want to punish yourself you should go for a long hard run instead of eating," she said.

He shot her an annoyed look.

"Keep up, Smallville."

"What do you mean by punishing myself," he gritted, his stride now matching hers.

"Because that's what you do, Clark," she returned. "Though I have no idea why?"

There was a moment's silence. She could hear his laboured breathing but he was keeping up, obviously her words bothered him.

"And how is running going to fix that?" he panted.

"Is it hurting right now?" she asked, increasing her pace. "Really hurting, Clark? Like your lungs feel on fire?"

"Yes," he gritted.

"Good."

She increased her speed. He matched it. They were now running pretty much at full pelt towards the road. She was surprised that he could keep up. He had more stamina than she realised, but it was probably the anger driving him. She could feel it rolling off him waves.

They reached the road, both stopping and gasping for air. She turned and looked at him. He was bent over, hands resting on his thighs, his face red from the exertion. She was mesmerised by the tortured pain on his face.

"I-It's my fault," he got out between gasps for air, "It's my fault he's dead."

Oh Clark. Her heart went out to him. She knew how blaming yourself for someone's death felt all too well. But she didn't say anything, better to give him some breathing space, let him sort it out for himself.

Eventually he began to compose himself.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

He nodded, and hastily wiped his eyes.

"Let's head back."

They began walking down the road in silence. After a couple of minutes had passed she spoke up. "I blamed myself for years."

"What did you do to fix it?" he asked.

She glanced sideways at him. "I took up Martial Arts."

A smile hovered on his lips. "That explains some things."

She lightly punched him in the arm. He nudged her back. And something shifted between them from that day on. She still annoyed him, mercilessly teased him, but now he had a better understanding of her. He could get why she had such a prickly, defensive façade. She was protecting her heart as much as he was.

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**A/N: Not sure if it's as good as last chapter but I still loved writing it. I would have liked to edit it further but time did get away on me.**

**Feedback is always very much appreciated, even if it's to tell me what you liked, or not liked. **

**I haven't forgotten my other story, just pushing for time and the writing flow went with this story. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **This chapter turned out longer than I thought it would! I kind of always know where I want to go and how I want to end a chapter but sometimes it takes me longer than I think to get there. And I do have a tendency to write long chapters! Sometimes I think maybe I should split it into two chapters but then it seems to interrupt the flow.

Thanks so much for the reviews to date. I try to reply personally but if by chance you didn't get a response I would like to say thanks to andi, Jane, Shejie 18, clarkfan325, and highlander348 for leaving a review on the last chapter.

As always, reviews make my day!

That said, here is the next chapter; enjoy!

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* * *

**Chapter 3.**

* * *

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Clark glanced across the diner to where Chloe and Pete sat. Great, Lois wasn't here, that meant he could order what he liked.

A pretty young blonde from behind the counter approached him. "What can I get you?"

"Um, I'll have an iced coffee, thanks."

Handing the money to the girl, he quickly glanced towards the door. Still no sign of Lois.

Just maybe he could get away with this.

The girl handed him a glass. He gazed longingly at the scoops of ice-cream and cream, it had been ages since he last had one of these. Grabbing the glass he walked back to the booth.

"Don't let Lois see that," Chloe remarked, an amused smile on her face.

"She is driving me crazy," he returned and sipped at the straw. "You should see the lists she gives my mom.

Pete let out a chuckle. "Glad you and not me, man."

"There is hardly any food in the house," he whined.

"Well it must be working," Chloe said, her eyes skimming over him, "because you look great."

He did? He smiled. "Ah, thanks."

"You're welcome," Chloe shrugged,

"You should have seen the kick Clark punted through goals last week," Pete enthused, "I've never seen anything like it. He was just like one of those professional kickers."

Chloe appeared surprised, then frowned. "Since when have you ever learned to kick like that?"

He looked up. "I haven't."

"He saw Chad kiss Lana," Pete said.

Chloe went sort of still. "Oh." She picked up her cup and took a sip. "Must have been in a fit of jealousy then."

Clark felt his own cheeks reddened and hastily returned his attention to his ice coffee. His thoughts drifted to Lana. He'd passed her in the corridor this morning at school. She had glanced his way and smiled at him, causing him to walk straight into Lois.

"_Ouch, Clark!" she exclaimed, "You just stepped on my foot with your big clumsy feet."_

"_Sorry," he'd mumbled._

_Lois eyes drifted over to Lana, she snorted. "You need to get that lovesick dopey look off your face, Smallville, way too obvious."_

_Looping her arm through his she began dragging him down the corridor. "You're lucky I was here before you ended up making a fool of yourself," she chatted._

_He'd glanced over his shoulder to where Lana stood at the lockers, and much to his surprise she was looking his way, at him._

"Are you going to finish that, Clark, or continue to stare dreamily out of the window," Chloe quipped. "Because you know it's only a matter of time before Lois gets here."

Chloe was right, and that would be the end of his iced coffee. He began sipping on the straw.

"You might want to speed it up too," Pete added, "Lois has just walked through the door."

He quickly shoved the glass at Pete. "Pretend it's yours."

Chloe let out a half laugh. "As if that'll fool her."

Lois went to plonk herself on his side of the seat. "Shove over, Clark."

He scooted across the seat.

Lois dumped her bag on the table and began rifling through it.

"Did I ever tell you all how much I hate school," she grumbled.

"Like every day, Lois," Chloe returned.

"Well today was the worst ever."

The contents of her bag ended up strewn over the table.

"Mr Davies gave me detention," she exclaimed, "for practically nothing!"

"What did you do?" Clark asked, curious. Lois was always in trouble.

"I only shoved Brett Jones in the chest, but he had it coming, that guy is a first prized jerk."

Clark agreed, the amount of taunts he'd suffered at his cruel remarks. "Hope it was hard."

She shot him a quick grin. "Not nearly as hard as I would have liked."

"I don't know, you can shove pretty hard, Lois," Chloe spoke up, "Did you knock him over?"

She bit down on her lip. "He might have stumbled a bit, before falling on his ass."

Pete nodded in approval. "Way to go."

Lois resumed rifling through her bag.

"What are you looking for?" Clark asked.

"Money, spent my last five bucks buying cigarettes."

"I thought you were giving up," he couldn't help saying.

"Don't start, Clark."

Oh, so it was okay for her to give him a hard time about what he ate, but it wasn't okay for him to say anything about her smoking.

"So aren't you supposed to be in detention right now?" Chloe piped up.

Lois shrugged. "As if I'm going."

He gave her an incredulous look. "But Lois, you could get suspended."

She glanced sideways at him. "Lighten up, Smallville, so what if I get suspended for a couple of days … and damn but I can't even find one dollar in here."

Then her eyes landed on the two glasses in front of Pete. She raised an eyebrow, glancing his way. Clark quickly averted his eyes.

"Wow Pete," she began, "You must be really craving the caffeine today, to buy a chocolate thick shake and an iced coffee."

"Yeah … well," Pete stammered.

"Okay so which one is Clark's?"

Clark sighed and met with Chloe's gaze as she mouthed, _I told you so._

Pete merely pushed his precious glass of iced coffee across the table to Lois. Lois turned to face him, eyes narrowing.

"I can't even have at least one day were I can indulge myself?"

"What you do after try outs is up to you, Clark, but until that day, no!"

She picked up the glass and sipped on the straw, his annoyance increasing. She was so frustrating.

"Um, I have to help my dad with chores," Pete hurriedly said, as he vacated his seat, "See you all tomorrow."

"Yeah, I have to study for biology," Chloe added, and made a similar hasty retreat.

He watched them leave, _thanks for deserting me in my hour of need_, he felt like yelling after them. His gaze rested back on Lois, who was obviously enjoying what was his iced coffee.

"I might need to lose a few pounds," he began.

She snorted. "A few, try a lot."

He gritted his teeth and spying the packet of cigarettes he picked them up.

"Yeah but that isn't going to damage my health were as these," he continued, brandishing them in her face. "Will, yours."

She snatched the packet out of his hand and quickly shoved them back in her bag, but there was a quick flash of guilt on her face. "I didn't know you cared so much, Clark," she replied in a sardonic tone of voice.

"You're the most annoying girl I know, Lois, but I actually do care."

His words were strangely comforting. She knew he did. Chloe was right about that too; Clark did have a kind heart. But she couldn't allow herself the luxury of getting too attached. Her whole life had consisted of never being in one place longer than twelve months. Friends came and went. And Clark was … well kind of likeable. As different as they were she felt an odd connection with him, ever since that morning when he'd told her; _it's all my fault_.

If she was completely honest with herself, she even enjoyed her mornings spent with Clark, running alongside him. It was sort of soothing, she almost felt content, for her that was.

His mom would have breakfast waiting for them when they returned. She felt … part of a family again. But it wouldn't last, it never did.

"You've gone quiet," he observed. "That's not like you."

"Just enjoying the coffee," she returned.

"Yeah, I was enjoying it too," he grumbled, "Before you came along."

She did give him a hard time, and he just took it. There was a certain kind of inner strength about him. It puzzled her, for someone so young how had he learned such self-restraint?

Chloe was right about that too; _you just don't know him._ But she was starting too.

"We can share it." She pushed the glass across to him. "Your turn."

A slight frown dented his forehead as he looked down at the glass. "We exchange germs," he began, hesitatingly.

"Wouldn't be the first time," she quipped.

His cheeks reddened. Oh Clarkie, she inwardly mused, he really was so clueless.

"But if you don't want to," she continued, "I'll take it back."

She went to reach for the glass but he pulled it away. His eyes met hers. "I'm good with that."

Picking up the glass he sipped on the straw, handed it back to her. Then his eyes fell on her essay paper. He frowned, again, went to reach for it when she quickly snatched it up and shoved it in her bag.

"I suck at spelling."

He had already seen the 'D' scribbled in red pen.

"I suppose you got an 'A'+++."

"No, it was only a 'B'."

"Wow, Smallville, that's a come down for you isn't it?"

As much as she tried to hide it, he still had the feeling she was disappointed with her result.

"I could help you," he began, "you know with the editing."

She raised an eyebrow. "And give you something to tease me about."

"I won't tease you, you do a good enough job of that for the both us."

She seemed to be contemplating the thought.

"Think of it as returning one favour for another, you give up your time to train me, I'm sure I can find time to edit your essays."

She smiled, brushing her shoulder against his. "Okay, I need all the help I can get."

Pulling the essay paper back out of her bag she handed it to him, ignoring the warm smile on his face. He began reading, his hair falling into his eyes. She inwardly sighed. He was easy on the eye, not that she'd ever tell him in a million years. Averting her eyes from his face, she looked up to see two people enter the diner.

"Well what do you know, Lana and her boyfriend Jock have just entered the café."

Clark attempted to look over his shoulder.

She put her arm through his. He frowned. "What are you doing, Lois?"

"Helping you out here, Clark," she sighed, "You don't want to look desperate and dateless."

"Now say something funny."

"Like what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Think, Smallville."

"Um … Brett Jones is a buffoon."

She laughed loudly.

"That wasn't even really funny, Lois."

"I know," she returned through gritted teeth, "It's called pretending, Clark."

"Now, move a little closer to me."

He leaned towards her, looking unsure.

"Touch my hair," she encouraged.

His eyes skimmed over her hair, still looking totally unsure of himself. Then, much to her surprise, he raised a hand, wrapping her pony tail around it, before tickling her nose with the ends of her hair.

Oh crap, did he have be so cute about it.

He smiled that gorgeous smile of his. Chloe was right about that too, damn it.

She managed a smile back. "Good work, Smallville, there may be some hope for you yet."

"Wow, a compliment from the formidable, Lois Lane," he teased, he still had hold of her hair, and tickled her nose with it again.

She sneezed.

His smile widened. "You allergic to your own hair, Lois?"

By the expression on his face she could tell he was enjoying himself now.

"Hmm, cute, now you can let go of my hair, Clark."

Her hair slid out of his hand. She totally ignored the little flutter of her heart. She hadn't been out with guy for a while, that had to be it.

She looked up to find his eyes resting on her hair, a slight puzzled frown denting his forehead. "Do you dye your hair?"

"What girl doesn't?"

Lana, of course, didn't. Miss perfection over there, who stole the odd glance their way from time to time, Lois had noticed. Huh, interesting, did she possibly like Clark?

"What is it normally?" he asked, distracting her.

"Boring old mousy brown."

"What's wrong with brown?"

She sighed. "Blondes have more fun," she quipped.

Though Lana was probably an equation to that rule.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," she began, nudging him, "I'm hanging out for a cigarette."

"Lois," he began, "Maybe you should cut back with the smoking …"

"Save the lecture, Clark, that's my job."

Spying the glass of iced coffee she grabbed it. "Oh wait, we have to finish this first."

They shared what was left of the iced coffee and went to leave, passing Lana and Chad's table.

"Who'd ever think, Kent," Chad spoke up, "That you would be capable of attracting such a babe?"

Lois spun around, eyes narrowing. How dare he insult Clark!

"You might want to shut your mouth," she fumed, spying the muffin on his plate, she picked it up and shoved it in his mouth, grinning. "That ought to do it."

Clark, stood there stupefied for a moment. Had Lois just done what he thought she had? A furious look crossed Chad's face as he spat out the muffin.

"You want to get your girlfriend in line, Kent," he growled.

He blinked. Ha, yeah, as if anyone could get Lois in line.

"Lois," he began, a slow smile crossing his face, "She has a mind of her own, I kind of like that about her."

He glanced her way, noticing the look of surprise on her face. She smiled. And it felt good, standing up to Chad. He'd probably pay for it come the try outs.

* * *

The mornings were starting to get chilly. It was getting harder to drag himself out of bed, but Lois was always on time. And he certainly didn't want her waking him up again.

"You know there's something I don't get," she chatted, as they jogged down the dirt road.

"What's that?"

"The family resemblance, who do you take after? Your dad has fair hair, your mom red, so where did you get the dark hair?"

Trust her to ask. It was probably only a matter of time before she found out.

"I was adopted."

She shot him a sideways look. "Huh, I never knew."

"My mom couldn't get pregnant."

"So they adopted you as a baby?"

He shook his head. "No, I was about three years old."

He could clearly see the curiosity in her hazel eyes.

"You don't remember anything?"

"I was too young."

"So what are your first memories?"

He tried to recall them. "I-It was like waking from a dream."

_A dream he had no recollection of. The bright sunlight hurt his eyes. Where was he? Who was he? How did he get here? Walking on unsteady legs that had never been used he stumbled towards the only object in sight._

_He didn't know what it was._

_He didn't know anything. His mind was a blank slate. But he had to belong somewhere._

_Crouching down he peered inside the metal object. A big smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Eyes, like his, stared back at him in astonishment. _

_This must be where he belonged._

_The woman wrapped him up in a cloth of some kind, she held him in her arms. He touched his own cheek, then hers. They were the same._

_They uttered sounds he couldn't understand, but a distant memory told him he heard sounds like this before. He tried to copy them._

'_Mom,' the woman pointed at her chest. 'Dad,' she pointed at the man._

'_Mom,' he tried to speak, 'dad.'_

_A tremulous smile crossed her face. "Oh look, Jonathon, he can talk."_

_She, mom, dressed him in clothes. She sat with him, teaching him. _"_Hands," she said touching his hands, holding up her own hands._

"_Feet," she continued, grabbing his bare feet and tickling them, making him laugh._

"_Nose." She tweaked his nose, he pulled on hers. "Nose!" he exclaimed._

_White flakes fell from the sky, covering the ground._

"_That's snow, son," his dad told him._

"_Pretty." He grabbed at it with his bare hands. "Snow, snow."_

_Snow was funny._

"_Careful Clark, you have no mittens on, snow is cold."_

_He stopped and glanced up at him; what was cold? His dad crouched down alongside him, grabbing a handful of snow. He placed the snow into his hands. "You see, son, its cold."_

"_Not cold," he said._

_His dad rubbed his hand, a look of astonishment on his face. "W-What," he stammered. "Your hands are warm, how is that possible?"_

"Hey, Smallville." Lois nudged him. "Where did you go?"

He blinked, shook his head. Funny how he recalled those distant, first memories now.

"I-I was remembering something."

"Yeah, what?"

"Snow."

She gave him a funny look.

"My first memory."

"Oh."

"What's yours?"

"My mom, putting baby Lucy in my arms, I couldn't help thinking how ugly she was."

Clark let out a laugh. "Really?"

She smiled and nodded. "I'll race you to the end, Smallville."

She took off and he followed in hot pursuit, determined to beat her. One of these days he would, then he could rub it in her face for a change.

They were neck and neck. The road came into sight. He gave it all he had, passing her. It almost felt like flying. All those years he'd never experience the real sensation of running with his own strength. It was kind of liberating.

The cold wind blowing on his face.

He remembered the time he'd reached up to the stove, grabbing the handle of a saucepan.

"_Clark," his mother exclaimed. "Don't …"_

_Hot water spilt all over him._

"_Oh my god, Clark …" his mom gasped, grabbing him by the arms. "Clark …" her voice broke off there, as her hands touched his face, arms, searching for burns. "I-I … there's not a mark on you."_

_That's when he knew, by the expression on his mother's face; he was different._

His breathing came in hard laboured breaths. His lungs burned. But there was something to this running.

"You just got a lucky break, Clark," Lois panted.

He grinned at her. "Right Lois. And you look really out of breath."

She glared at him.

"Probably from smoking," he pointed out.

Her hands rested on her hips. "Shut up, Smallville." She went to punch him in the arm. "And don't get cocky, doesn't suit you."

They began walking back to the farm, both trying to catch their breaths. A few minutes passed. Rays of golden light stretched out across the landscape as the sun slowly rose.

"You never tried to find your real parents?" Lois asked at length.

He shook his head. "No."

"Why?"

"They obviously didn't want me so why would I."

There was another brief silence. Clark waited for the next question. He really didn't mind discussing it, with her that was.

"You're not even remotely curious where you came from?"

He glanced sideways at her. "Sometimes."

"It could be somewhere mysterious, exotic," she continued, with a dramatic wave of her hand.

He smiled, bemused. If only she knew. By the way I'm an alien Lois. Wherever he was from, they looked just like the humans that inhabited this planet. They had to be related in some way?

Not that it really mattered.

He knew no differently after all, his real first memory was finding his mom and dad in their turned up truck. That's when his life had begun.

* * *

_Voices whispered on the still night air. He could make out fragmented words. 'He's so young … how do you know … earth … will he be safe there? We are risking his life.'_

'_And here … he will die … like the rest of us.'_

_A woman was sobbing. She sounded so sad, so heartbroken. 'He won't ever know us …'_

'_We will live on, through him.'_

'_But he will be the last of our kind.'_

'_I'm sorry … you have to let him go … Lara.'_

_Soft arms tenderly held him. 'Kal-el … Kal-el … my son … you will have a long journey.'_

_She lowered him into the space craft._

'_We will always love you … be brave … be strong.'_

_Suddenly he was cut off from the world he knew. Encased in darkness, bereft and alone, his cries the only sound. The humming of the space ship lured him into a deep sleep. His tears dried on his cheeks as his ship hurtled to a far distant planet called earth._

Clark abruptly woke up, half tangled in his bed sheets, heart pounding. That was … a dream he'd never had before. Shoving a hand through his hair he pushed the bed covers aside.

Was it a dream?

He tried holding on to the scattered images, the words. Pulling his clothes on he stumbled down the stairs. He headed straight for the desk, grabbing pen and paper. He needed to write this down before he forgot it, a sense of urgency overwhelming him.

The hallway light switched on and his mom came down the stairs.

"Clark," she began, "What are you doing?"

He turned in his seat to look at her.

"Are you alright?"

"I had a dream …"

"Of your father again?"

He shook his head. "No, it was … I-I don't think it was a dream but a memory."

His mom crossed the floor towards him, tying the belt around her dressing gown. Picking up the piece of paper he had just written on he handed it to her. He watched her face carefully as she read it, a frown denting her forehead.

He swallowed. "I think she was my mom, my birth mom … and she called me Kal-el."

A hand fluttered to her mouth. "Are you sure, Clark?"

He raked a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure of anything … but it was so real."

There was something he needed to do.

* * *

Clark switched on the light in the storm cellar. Walking across to the dusty old desk, he pulled the sheet off the space craft, much in the same way his father had done when he'd first shown him all those years ago.

His heart rate increased at the sight of it. The strangest feeling, something he couldn't define, stole over him. Was it possible that his real parents had placed him in the space craft to save his life? _And here ... he will die like the rest of us._

Reaching out a hand he ran it across the ship's outer casing. It appeared to hum beneath his touch, as if knowing who he was.

He felt the unusual markings around its rim. Grabbing a torch from the bench, he flicked it on and peered closely at the markings. They were symbols, symbols that made no sense to him. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. What could they mean?

A shiver went through him.

Was he Kal-el, the last of his kind? _'We will live on, through him.' _Just … who were they? And what did that make him?

* * *

Clark stopped by the trophy case. His eyes resting on his dad's photo. Just two days to go, two days where he would find out if he cut it or not.

'_You were meant for much more important things than winning football games.'_

Maybe he was, but not anymore. The memories, from so long ago, left a deep ache in his heart.

"_I do trust you, Clark. I do. I guess there's always going to be a part of me that's a little afraid. But that's just being a parent."_

"Penny for your thoughts," came a voice.

He spun around to see Lana. For a moment he was speechless. She was the last person he'd thought would talk to him considering what had happened in the diner.

"I was … just dreaming," he replied.

She smiled in that sweet way of hers.

"About the football try outs?"

He nodded.

"I'd heard you had signed up for them," she continued, brushing a strand of hair back from her forehead. "I remember you played a few games in our freshman year."

"Seems like a long time ago now," he sighed.

"It does," she agreed, "so why the change of heart?"

"Last year of high school, thought I'd give it a shot."

This was the longest conversation they had had since his freshman year. He couldn't understand it.

"I just wanted to apologise about the other day, Chad was being such a jerk."

Oh, that must be why.

"I ... yeah," he stammered. "Just a bit."

A smile crossed her lips. "But you surprised me," she continued.

He did?

"The way you spoke to him." Her eyes rested on his face, a slight puzzled frown on her forehead. "You, sounded more like your old self."

Right, okay, that was good, now reply with something half intelligent, he silently chided.

"Ah, thanks."

Great going, he inwardly moaned.

"Well I better head to class."

He nodded. "Yeah, me too."

"Good luck on Friday at the try outs."

"Hopefully I'll came out of it still intact," he smiled.

She smiled in return. "I'm sure you will."

He watched her walk away. Why was it so easy to talk, and even flirt with Lois, but in front of Lana he was a stammering fool.

Sighing, he turned around and his eyes rested on Chad. He stood, ten metres away, leaning against his locker, glaring at him.

Clark swallowed, yep he was a dead man come Friday.

* * *

Chloe clacked away on her keyboard. Pete whizzed across to her desk on his wheelie chair.

"Did you hear what Lois did to Chad?" he asked.

"Yep."

Lois had gone on and on about it. What an insufferable jerk Chad was, and how Smallville surprised her with the way he stuck up for her.

"_Careful," she teased, "Before you know it you'll also be a Clark fan."_

_Lois had merely snorted. _"_Okay I admit he can be kind of cute and charming in his own way, and he has a great mom."_

_Well, well, Chloe mused, Lois calling Clark cute and charming._

"_It sounds as if he's growing on you."_

Clark, was like that. Before she knew it, it had snuck up on her. Just as well she wouldn't have to worry about Lois developing a crush on him. Lois and boys was kind of disastrous, and soon as a guy even attempted to get serious with her she'd head for the hills.

Speaking of the like, Clark walked into the room, a dreamy look in his eyes; a smile on his lips.

"Someone looks pleased with themselves," she remarked.

She watched him sling his bag off his shoulder and onto his desk. She had meant it the other day when she said he looked great. All that physical exercise and eating healthy was beginning to pay off. Her eyes rested on his arms, she could make out the muscle definition beneath the blue top he wore. His chest was … kind of impressive. His waistline had slimmed down a bit as well. Damn, but Lois was right, at this rate he would be hot stuff before too long. And she did, but didn't like that thought.

"Lana spoke to me," Clark said, shattering her little indulged perusal of him.

It felt like a rock had settled in the pit of her stomach. Of course, only Lana could put that look on his face.

"Wow," she began, her voice catching in her throat. "Now you're beginning to look great she suddenly notices you."

That came out sharper than she'd intended.

Clark looked up surprised. Chloe nibbled on her lip, well it was the truth.

"Not you too, Lois has already been at me about that."

Thank god for Lois, she didn't pull any strings.

"I don't mean to burst your little bubble, Clark, just that you're my best friend and I don't want to see you get hurt."

His face softened. "Advice, noted, besides I don't think you have to worry, just because she talked to me doesn't mean she's into me."

"Yeah but if she is, I'd be going for it," Pete added.

Chloe shot him a glare.

He shrugged. "C'mon, just about every male in Year 12 has had had a crush on her at some stage throughout high school."

"I wonder which head they were thinking with," she muttered as she returned her attention to the computer screen, silently fuming.

* * *

Friday rolled around. Clark actually got to sleep in that morning. Lois had instructed he was not to do any physical exertion the morning of the try outs. He wasn't about to disagree if it meant a morning free of Lois bossing him about.

The morning was strangely quiet with just him and his mom at the breakfast table.

"No more dreams, memories?" she asked.

He shook his head. But since having that dream or memory or whatever it was his curiosity about his own origins had begun to resurface. He had spent last night copying down the symbols engraved into the space ship onto a piece of paper.

He was sure answers would lie in the decryption of the symbols but seeing he was from another planet where would he begin to even decipher them?

"It sure is quiet without Lois here," his mom continued, a slight wistful note in her voice.

"It's great," he added.

"I don't know, she has this way of making the world seem so much more alive."

Clark stopped chewing, his mom was kind of right. He'd sort of missed his morning run with her. It had become habitual; running with Lois, arguing with Lois, disagreeing with Lois, being friends … with Lois.

"That's because she's always in trouble," he pointed out.

A small amused smile played at the corners of her mouth. "She's good for you."

He choked on his cereal, and glanced at her. Seriously?

"She has a way of drawing you out of your shell," his mom continued.

"Yeah that's because she pokes and prods till I have no other choice."

His mom's smile widened. "Maybe that's just what you need."

Just what he needed … yeah right.

* * *

Lois wasn't at school that day. Out of all the days when the football tryouts would be happening, though that wasn't till the end of the day. Still, he wouldn't have thought she'd miss it.

English was boring without her, though the teacher seemed thrilled she was absent. Lois did like to make his life a tad difficult, always speaking out of turn or questioning something he'd say.

"Where is Lois today," he'd whispered to Chloe during class.

"I don't know, she was still asleep in bed when I left, she's probably wagging it again."

She'd already missed too much school, but then Lois was a law unto herself. And his mom thought she was good for him!

Lois not at school meant he could order what he liked at lunch time, and considering the boring contents of his lunch box he was going to. He brought a hamburger, expecting her to suddenly pop out of nowhere and give him a hard time about it. But it never happened.

Huh, glancing around the lunch room, it kind of wasn't the same with her not being here.

"What, you're missing Lois now?" Chloe had quipped.

"Of course not," he'd snorted.

"Don't worry I'm sure she will be here for your try outs, I know she wouldn't miss it."

But come the end of the school day there was still no sign of Lois. He barely had much time to think about it, his stomach twisting into knots once in the change rooms.

Pete grinned at him. "Nervous?"

"A little, what about you?"

"Nah, I'm good."

Clark sometimes envied his strong self-esteem, nothing daunted Pete. And he had a bad feeling that Chad and his friends were not going to make it easy for him.

Leaving the change room with Pete, they began walking towards the oval. He was just passing the stands when someone grabbed his arm from behind, pulling him under the bench of seats.

For a moment he feared the worse, Chad had come for payback but it was Lois' face he saw. Instant relief hit him.

"Lois," he sighed.

"What ... why?" she frowned, "Who did you think it would be?"

He shook his head. "Never mind, and where have you been all day and why are dragging me under here?"

"I can't be seen," she replied, looking furtively around.

"How come?"

"I got suspended."

His eyes widened. "Again!"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "Shss, not so loud."

"What did you do this time?"

She bit down on her lip. "I got caught smoking behind the gym."

"Lois!"

"Tone down the hissy fit, Smallville."

He shut his mouth. At this rate she was going to get kicked out of school.

She looked him directly in the eye. "You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied.

He'd been working out in the mornings with Lois for the last month, practicing footy with Pete in the evenings. He'd lost ten pounds, had more energy than he'd had in years and it felt good.

"Okay, go knock them dead soldier," she grinned and punched him in the arm. "I'll be cheering for you from under the stand."

He rolled his eyes at the military terminology. She was so … Lois. Then a thought took hold.

"Why don't we strike a deal?" he suggested. "If I make the team, you give up smoking."

She frowned, not appearing to like the thought.

"You did say at the beginning of the year that you would give up," he cajoled.

"And we still have another seven months to go."

He sighed. "What does it matter if it's in one week or seven months?"

She chewed on her lip, looking deep in thought. "Alright," she grumbled. "It's a deal."

He smiled, it really was the last thing he'd expected her to agree to.

"Now get out there, Clark, and don't let me down."

He expected her to punch him in the arm, again, as she usual did but much to his astonishment she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. "For good luck," she murmured in his ear.

* * *

"Where did you go?" Pete hissed when he caught up to him.

"Just, Lois grabbed me for a chat."

"What's with the smile?"

He frowned. "Nothing." Was he smiling?

His eyes scanned the oval, the rows of seats. He spied Chloe, she waved to him. He waved back.

"Good luck, Clark," she called out.

He was going to need all the luck he could get given the glowering look on Chad's face. But this was his defining moment, time to do something significant in his last year of high school. Time to face life.

He would take whatever Chad happened to throw his way. His father had always said to him,_ 'hard work is what keeps a man honest, Clark.'_

And he had worked hard for this. He would play fair, it was in his nature after all. He had had a good mentor.

'_I miss you dad.'_

'_I'm always there is spirit, son, watching over you.'_

* * *

He took the heavy knocks, managed to get through no matter what was dished out to him.

When the coach ordered him to do the kick off, he stood, ribs aching and bruised. As he kicked the ball it wasn't Chad kissing Lana that he envisioned. It was his dad. His dad dying to protect him, dying … for him; _that's what a parent does, Clark_. His birth mother giving him a chance at life when all was lost, _be brave … be strong._

He kicked with every last ounce of his being, and watched amazed as the ball sailed straight through the middle of the goal posts. The stunned look on the other player's faces along with Chad, was his reward. It didn't matter what they did to him, the only thing that mattered was believing in himself. He was giving this chance at life; it was time he seized the moment.

.

.

* * *

.

.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it? Please let me know. Feedback is always very much loved and appreciated and I really like reading what people think. I do especially love reading what people like the most, what their favourite scenes/parts were.**

**I love writing this story. It allows me to capture so many different moments and facets in Clark's life.**

**.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for so much for all the reviews to date. Very much appreciated! I know my other story is probably more popular but I also very much enjoy writing this as well. I would have liked to update this sooner but I had a pile of exams to mark this week! There may be errors (I don't have anyone to edit and not a lot of time) as a result of my marking workload. So please over look any errors or send me a quick message letting me know where the errors are so I can go back and fix them.**

**That said. Enjoy!**

**.**

* * *

_**Chapter 4.**_

* * *

Clark climbed out of the jeep groaning. Every muscle in his body ached, even his toes hurt. The heavy knocks he'd endured at the football try outs would no doubt leave a colourful array of bruises over his torso. Chad and his henchmen hadn't taken it easy on him.

But it had been worth it. Just to see the look of astonishment on everyone's faces as he punted the ball between the posts. Nothing had felt so good in a long while.

Pete patted him on the back. "Whoa Clark, that's twice man, guess the other kick wasn't a fluke."

Chloe hugged him after the try outs. "Lana again?" she'd asked.

He had shook his head. "No I was thinking of my dad."

She smiled warmly, looking exceptionally pleased about that. "He would have been proud of you."

It had felt as if his father was there, watching over him. It left a painful ache in his heart. One he didn't want to acknowledge in too much depth or detail.

He knew what he'd lost; what it had cost.

Clark made his way up the porch steps. Stumbling into the kitchen, he spied the maple pie and note left by his mom.

_Thinking of you on this special day. There is a pot roast in the fridge. I won't be home till after 9pm._

_Love mom_

_P.S. Don't tell Lois about the pie._

A smile crossed his face at her thoughtfulness. He longed to tell her about it all, but it could wait till she arrived home. Right now he needed a long hot shower, and something to eat.

The shower did little to ease the soreness. Pulling on a comfortable pair of tracksuit pants, he viewed his chest in the mirror, lightly touching the numerous bruises beginning to appear and wincing. He looked as if he'd been in the boxing ring with Mike Tyson. His mom would freak if she saw this, which she wasn't going to. Reaching for his shirt, a sudden noise from below, almost like a door or drawer slamming, startled him. Was someone breaking into the house? Turning quickly he quietly made his way down the stairs, peering cautiously around the corner. The lounge room was empty. He gazed into the kitchen and there was Lois.

His shoulders slumped in relief. Naturally she would just let herself into the house. And was now helping herself to the Maple pie sitting on the bench.

"Hey thanks Mrs K," she said to herself, smiling.

"Just help yourself, Lois," he remarked.

"You know me, Clark," she returned with a smirk, not even glancing his way.

He walked, barefoot across the floor till he realised he wasn't wearing a shirt. Stopping in his tracks he went to turn around before Lois did decide to look his way.

"Oh no you don't, Smallville," came her voice.

He sighed and hung his head. Too late.

"I need to inspect the damage."

Oh great, just terrific, last thing he needed was her to see. She would go blabbing to his mom about it. She told her everything.

He heard her footsteps cross the floor, and contemplated making a hasty dash up the stairs, but then there was little point. When Lois was determined to do something; she did it.

He slowly turned around, dreading the worse. Lois eyes skimmed over his chest, her eyes widening.

"Clark," she exclaimed, her eyes meeting with his, "Looks like they used you for a punching bag?"

Before he had a chance to respond she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the kitchen.

"This was that jock, Chad's, doing wasn't it?" she continued, "All because I insulted him so he decided to get payback on you."

Not to mention Chad had seen Lana chatting to him in the school corridor.

She planted her hands on her hips. "Oh I'm going to make him pay, I'll make them all pay, the cowards!"

"No … Lois just leave it, you'll only make it worse," he protested.

She was already in enough trouble as it was.

"Sit on that stool, Clark. I'll patch you up," she ordered in that drill sergeant way of hers.

He sighed and shook his head, there was no point in arguing with her. He'd already leant the futility of that.

"Those bastards!" she muttered as she rifled through her bag. "I'd love nothing more than to bring them down a perch or two, especially Chad with his stupid trendy hair, strutting about the place as if he owns it."

"The girls like his hair," Clark piped up.

She turned to him scowling. "He looks like a prized rooster," she snorted.

She waved a finger at him. "When you make the team, Clark, don't even think about getting a ridiculous haircut like that."

Him trendy, as if. "What makes you think I'll make the team?"

She blinked in disbelief at his words. "Are you serious? You were amazing out there today."

He felt chuffed. "I was?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't let it go to your head, Smallville."

With her around that wouldn't be a problem, he mused.

She approached him, a tube of something in her hand. "What's that?"

"My mom had a way with concocting ointments for all sorts of ailments," Lois replied as she unscrewed the lid, "She said it was her gift."

He noted the brief sadness mixed with nostalgia in her eyes. For a moment he found himself wanting to comfort her.

"Anyway," she continued, straightening her shoulders, "It works wonders. I should know, the amount of scraps I was in as a girl."

He could well imagine and the tough façade was back in place. As was the way with Lois.

"So nothing's changed there," he quipped.

"Wow, I didn't know you were a comedian, Smallville," she dryly remarked, a hint of amusement in her hazel eyes.

Watching her dab a generous amount of the ointment on her fingers she glanced up at him. "This won't hurt."

Except his dignity. She had probably seen a lot better physiques than his. He might have toned up a bit and lost some pounds but he didn't have a six pack, far from it.

Seemingly oblivious to his discomfort, she continued to apply the ointment and her fingers felt nice on his bare skin. He wasn't used to being in such close proximity to a girl, though it was just Lois. Still she had a surprisingly tender touch.

She gently rubbed the ointment on the number of bruises on his chest. Inspected his side, touching the sensitive part of his ribs.

"Stop squirming, Smallville," she snapped.

"It tickles."

She glanced up at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Are you saying you're ticklish?"

"No," he quickly said, with dread.

Uh oh he knew that look. "What about your feet," she began raising an eyebrow.

Before he had a chance to respond she grabbed one of his feet and began tickling it. He tried to supress the giggles, tried pulling his foot away from her, to no avail. But he was in an awkward position and she had him trapped on that stool. He could hardly escape without ending up on his backside.

"Lois," he admonished, through gasps of escaped laughter. "Stop …"

Much to his relief she did, but she was still inspecting his foot, making him feel self-conscious all over again.

"You have big feet, Smallville."

"I have big everything," he sighed and then his face redden at the implications of those words.

Her eyes, lit with amusement, met his.

He swallowed. "I mean I have big feet and big hands," he stammered, holding his hands up for her to see.

She grabbed hold of his hand, a frown denting her forehead at the swollen knuckles on his third and fourth fingers.

"I should strap those fingers together."

He wasn't half wrong, big hands but also beautiful, oh what he could do with those hands. Mortified she hastily turned around. It was Smallville for Christ's sake! Completely naïve and pure as driven snow. The colour in his cheeks and the embarrassment written all over his face was confirmation of that. Most guys would say that as a pick up line, she mused. Clark wouldn't know the first thing about picking up a girl. It kind of made him endearing. Endearing she snorted to herself, get a grip Lois. Clark was endearing in a brotherly way that's all it was. Grabbing the tape from her bag she turned around, her eyes resting on his handsome face. His damp hair hung in waves around his face, brushing the nape of his neck. It was curlier than usual. He smelled of soap and spicy men's deodorant that was a nice mix. He glanced her way, a look of vulnerability of his face. He'd obviously had little exposure to the opposite sex, she mused.

"Can I put a shirt on Lois?"

She shook her head. "Not done with you yet, Clark."

He looked so awkward sitting there on that kitchen stool; cute. Biting down on her lip she took the few steps that separated them, and taking hold of his hand she strapped up his fingers.

"You mom's maple pie was amazing," she chattered.

"I wouldn't know, I haven't had the chance to taste it," he dryly remarked.

She glanced at him. Poor Clarkie, how she loved to tease him. Though she had no idea why?

"Hmm I saw the note too, '_don't tell Lois'_."

Apprehension stole over his face.

"Don't worry Smallville, try outs are over and what you eat is entirely up to you now."

"Thank god," he muttered.

She raised an eyebrow. "Though you probably might still want to tone it down," she continued, "After all you still have a bit this." She pinched his side, just above his tracksuit pants.

He scowled, swatting her hand away. "Lois, do you mind?"

She grinned at the indignant look on his face.

"I know I'm still too fat," he continued.

She raised an eyebrow. And overly self-conscious too. Maybe she should ease up on the teasing?

"It's not that bad, Clark," she scoffed.

"You call me tubby all the time," he pointed out.

"In an endearing way," she returned.

He frowned, confused. "How's it endearing?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Anyway there is nothing wrong with a few love handles."

His frown deepened. "And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

She shrugged casually. "I guess not if you're trying to impress one insipid cheer leader."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me, it's the inside that counts."

She lightly punched him in the arm. "That's right, Smallville, and seeing it makes you so uncomfortable you can go put a shirt on."

"Finally," he sighed getting up.

She noticed the slight swelling around his left eye.

"Hang on a sec."

He turned to her. "What now?"

"Sit, Clark."

"No … Lois," he began, looking flustered.

She shot him a stern look and sighing he sat back down. She inspected his left eye.

"You're gonna have some shiner there in the morning."

Turning around she reached for an ice pack in the freezer, wrapping it in a tea-towel and handing it to him. "Hold this over it."

"Can I put on a shirt before I do it?" he whined. "I'm cold."

"I guess," she sighed.

Now he could put an end to his embarrassment. Gingerly getting off the stool he headed for the stairs.

"Make it quick Clark, I have a surprise for you," she called after him.

He stopped at the bottom step. Did she say surprise? Oh no … Lois and surprises he shuddered to think.

"I'll heat up the pot roast your mom left in the fridge."

Looked like Lois was settling in for the night, he mused as he trudged up the stairs. Why would she want to spend a Friday night with him? After all wasn't he supposed to be boring? She really was the most unusual girl he'd ever met. Or maybe she just needed to get her bossy quota for the day and he was it.

He ran a quick brush through his mop of dark hair. Reaching for his shirt he pulled it on, muscles groaning in protest. He was going to feel it over the next couple of days. The farm chores still hadn't been done for the evening. It might have to wait till tomorrow but he should still make sure the animals are fed.

* * *

They ate the pot roast Lois had warmed up in the microwave, least she couldn't screw that up. She then dragged him off to the barn for his so called surprise, which he was kind of dreading.

"Lighten up, Clark," she admonished, "I'm not dragging you off to the gallows."

"I don't know, Lois, kind of feels that way."

She lightly elbowed him.

He grimaced.

"Sorry, Clark. I forgot about your bruises."

They padded up the wooden stairs, Clark shoved his hands in his pockets when they reached the loft. Lois grabbed a brown paper bag from the desk, pulling the contents out. He glanced at it, a frown denting his forehead, unsure of what to think.

"Beer?" he said in disbelief, well that was a relief in some ways.

"Don't tell me you have never had a beer before now?"

He ran a hand up the back of his neck. "Um … no."

Sudden disbelief crossed her face. "Well there is a first time for everything," she continued, handing him a can of beer.

He peered at it, hesitantly. Should he?

"You drink it, Clark."

Oh, ha ha, she was full of laughs.

"Figured that out, Lois."

She grinned. "It's not poison, Smallville."

"I don't know if my mom would like it," he began.

Lois rolled her eyes, opening the tab of her own can, he watched her take a swig.

"It's only mid strength, you're not about to get drunk on it and you've eaten."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Never drink on an empty stomach, Smallville."

"You sound like you know all about it, Lois?"

She shrugged. "I've drunk Vodka with Russian Generals, black and tans with British battalion troops, bourbon with other Army brats while playing polka, and I always win in drinking competitions."

He frowned at her words. He didn't know of any girl who could do that. But the thought disturbed him at the same time. "But you're only 18!"

A smile twitched on her lips.

"What about your father, didn't he know?" Clark continued.

"What the General didn't know didn't hurt."

She was unbelievable.

"In some countries, 18 is the legal drinking age, so drunk up Smallville and stop stressing so much."

He glowered at her, raised the can and taking a swig. It tasted … pulling a face … bitter.

Lois' smile widened at the expression on his face. "It gets better."

After a few more mouthfuls he came to one conclusion; she was right. Though he still had doubts about this being the right thing and Lois' surprises, were … well different.

* * *

He watched her poke and investigate his things. Lois was innately curious about everything. She peered through his telescope.

"I can't see a damn thing, Smallville," she muttered.

He patiently removed her ponytail from being in the way of the lens. "This might help, Lois."

"I still can't see anything."

Resting a hand on her shoulder he gently pushed her back. "Here let me focus it."

Placing his eye over the lens he adjusted it accordingly. Right on the spot of his favourite study; the Whirlpool Galaxy.

"Now look here," he instructed.

She peered into the lens of the telescope.

"You might make out what looks like swirling arms of light," he continued.

"Oh, yeah," she breathed, as if seeing the sudden beauty for herself. "What is it?"

"It's a galaxy, Lois. When you look into it you are looking at the past. The very formation of creation itself."

She slowly stood, her curious gaze resting on him. "Huh, I learn something new about you every day, Smallville."

He shrugged in that nonchalant way of his.

Her gaze swept over the barn loft. It really was very much a boy's domain. A bit cluttered, books strewn in hasty order on the book shelves. But unlike many other boys his age, there were no posters of scantily clad women posing proactively. Clark was still very much a boy, and a boy with an interest in things outside of this world. It made her curious. He really was so very different, but in a nice way.

She watched him sit wearily on the sofa, looking worse for wear from the try outs. Sipping his beer in thoughtful contemplation as she continued to inspect the desk. She always had found it hard to sit still. Her eyes landed on what was his familiar slanted hand writing on a scrap piece of paper.

She picked it up. "What is this?" she asked, holding up the piece of paper for him to see.

He went strangely still and she began reading it out loud.

_I could only barely make out the fragmented words, like a lost memory from long ago that I can't quite hold onto. _

'_He's so young."_

"_Earth … will he be safe there? We are risking his life.'_

'_And here he will die like the rest of us.'_

_A woman was sobbing. She sounded so sad, so heartbroken. 'He won't ever know us …'_

'_We will live on, through him.'_

_I think she is my birth mother. 'But he will be the last of our kind.'_

'_I'm sorry … you have to let him go … Lara.'_

_Soft arms tenderly held me but I can't see her face. 'Kal-el … Kal-el … my son … you will have a long journey.'_

_Now I know she is my mother. She lowered me gently into the space craft._

'_We will always love you … be brave … be strong.'_

_Suddenly I'm cut off from the world I know. Encased in darkness, bereft and alone, my silent cries the only sound. The humming of the space ship lured me into a deep sleep. My tears dried on my cheeks as the ship hurtled to a far distant planet called earth. A place that would become my home, the only home I would ever know._

Her voice broke off there as emotion got the better of her. Smallville … who knew he could write so movingly.

She turned to look at him. For a moment she was mesmerised by the shadows in his eyes, shadows she didn't understand, they puzzled her. It wasn't right to see that pain in his beautiful eyes.

"It's a story I'm writing," he hurriedly returned, his jaw clenching.

She didn't know he liked to write? Was this another mysterious quality to his character that she'd failed to overlook?

"Oh great, I love stories."

Grabbing her beer and plonking herself on the couch, she raised her legs, resting her feet in his lap. "So tell me all about it, Smallville."

"It's kind of boring, Lois," he began, his big hands coming to rest on her feet.

She cut him off by holding up her slender hand in comparison. "I want to hear it."

He sighed. "Alright," he muttered, running a hand through his tousled hair. Not like it could hurt to tell her, after all, she would only ever see it as a story and never truth.

"Well it's about a boy."

"Yeah I got that bit, Smallville."

He shot her a sardonic look. "This boy, he is different."

"He's an Alien, I got that too."

He shook his head. She could be so frustrating. "Just let me finish the story, Lois."

She rolled her eyes and took a swig of her beer.

"This boy was the lone survivor of a planet …"

"What's it called?"

"I don't know, haven't figured that bit out yet."

She snorted in her beer. "You need to be specific, Clark."

He gave her a patient look.

"Anyway continue about this boy from an Alien planet."

"He has these special powers."

"Like what?"

Clark inwardly sighed. He was in for a long night.

* * *

She watched, mesmerised as he explained the story of a young boy who thought he was human but soon realised he was different from other kids. A boy that strangely touched her heart. She knew what it felt like to be different.

The way the light played across the planes of his face, he really was very perfect in many ways; almost kind of superior_. Just have another beer Lois_, she scoffed_, then you'll be seeing him as some kind of Greek god. _

"He was adopted by two humans, who raised him as their own son and loved him just as much," he talked.

She cut him off. "Kind of like you, Clark."

He looked at her startled. "What do you mean Lois?"

"You were adopted, you don't know where you came from, who your real parents were."

He blinked, his expression becoming strangely guarded, which puzzled her.

"Well you kind of gave me the idea," he slowly began.

"I did?"

"Yeah, when you said I could come from somewhere exotic."

A smile crossed her face. "So I did, I wasn't thinking about another planet at the time."

He shrugged. "I thought it would make for an interesting story."

Her eyes rested on his face. Over the course of the last month she had come to the conclusion that when it came to Clark Kent, being brash kind of forced him out of his self-imposed shell. There was a lot hidden beneath the surface when it came to him. It strangely intrigued her. Just like the story had moved her in a way she couldn't explain. He really was a bit of an enigma in many ways. She wanted to prod, poke and find out what really lay beneath those self-protective defences of his. As different as they were they also had some things in common. They had both built protective walls around their hearts. Hers disguised behind a brash, bossy exterior. His, withdrawal into a place he couldn't be touched, living on the periphery, not know how to belong. Yeah, he was definitely the alien boy in the story.

After a long lengthy silence, and on her third can of beer she spoke up. "I suppose I no longer have to train you."

"I guess not," he began, his eyes wandering to her face, "But we can still go running together in the mornings," he continued, hastily adding, "That's if you want to."

She enjoyed running with him, Clark had a soothing effect upon her.

"Yeah, okay, can't resist your mom's breakfast."

Though in truth, she really couldn't resist his company, not that she would ever tell him.

* * *

Clark stood in line at the end of the school day that Monday to see if he made the team. A nervous anticipation took hold, despite Lois thinking he was a shoo-in he still wanted to see it for himself. He needed the evidence of those written words.

Glancing at the board, there it was; his name. He had made the team on his own merit, his own strength.

He stood still, like a stunned mullet for a moment as the reality sunk in. Then he slowly walked away in a daze as people shuffled him out of the way.

He'd not gone far when he saw Lana. She stood directly in front of him, a cute smile on her lips. "You made the team."

He nodded. "Yeah, I didn't know if I would."

"Well I saw you and I'm not at all surprised, you were great Clark."

He smiled. "Ah, thanks."

The smile disappeared from her lips. "I saw what Chad did to you, and I know he gave you that black eye."

He didn't know what to say, because it was true.

"I'm no longer going out with him. I didn't realise how much of a jerk he was."

Was she serious? His heart rate increased. "So you're single now?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I guess I am, feels kind of good."

Ask her out on a date, he silently said, or maybe it was a bit soon yet.

"So am I."

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Really, because I thought you were with Lois?"

"Um … we're just friends."

"You sure looked very friendly with her in the Diner the other day."

Lois' idea, _you don't want to look desperate and dateless_. Damn and Lana had noticed. Had she been checking him out? It gave him hope. Maybe she just might like him.

"We were just mucking around."

Lois was like that, easy to be around.

Lana's smile widened. "I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you now you'll be at training?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

A hesititant smile on his lips, her eyes twinkled with warmth and interest.

"See you then."

"Okay, yeah."

He watched her walk away. That was your cue Clark, damn his shyness. At this rate he'd never get to go on a date with her.

* * *

Lois was in fine form Monday morning, telling his mom all about what exactly Chad had done to him. He tried to shoot her a warning look, but she totally ignored him, as usual.

"Clark," his mom began, looking concerned, "Is this true?"

"It's nothing I can't handle," he hurriedly said.

Lois just continued to eat, oblivious to the warning looks he sent her way. She could be so frustrating. But she must have gotten some idea for her next words were a totally different tack in conversation.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," she chatted, as she cut her eggs, "Chloe's Aunt is coming to stay and they only have a tiny one bedroom apartment, it's crowed as it is."

Clark noticed the concern on his mom's face. She strangely liked Lois, which completely baffled him at times.

"I'm probably just gonna check into a motel," she continued, "And when the money runs out, I can sleep in my car."

"Lois," his mom began.

"It's okay, Mrs K," she said with a wave of her hand, "I've always dreamed of being a hobo, riding the rails, cooking beans over a roadside fire."

Lois as usual was being dramatic. His mom shot him an amused look.

"The matter is settled, Lois," she said adamantly. "You can stay with us."

What … going for a morning run with Lois was one thing but living in the same house as her … was his mom serious?

Judging by the expression on her face that was a yes.

"You can have Clark's room."

He choked on a piece of toast.

Lois grinned and patted him on the back. "Guess that makes us house buddies, Smallville."

.

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* * *

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading. Feedback is very much appreciated so send a review letting me know what you liked and/or what you might like to see. Not much action happens this chapter but it will as the story progresses.

I think the second part of this chapter could have been better written but time, as always, is not something I have a lot of!

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	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Thanks so much for the reviews to date. Always loved and appreciated! This chapter is kind of long, sorry about that. I always plan out what I want to happen in a chapter and sometimes it just takes me longer to get there. I guess I could just upload it as two chapters but then that seems to break the flow.

I apologise for any errors in advance. I really wanted to upload this before the weekend was over and I've been so busy with my truckload of marking! Ugh. I'll be glad when this week is over!

That said. Enjoy!

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* * *

_**Chapter Five.**_

* * *

_**.**_

Lois rubbed her hands together. The nights were starting to get chilly. It was time to drag out the scarfs, mittens and beanies.

"Why am I here watching Smallville play football?" she grumbled to Chloe.

"For moral support," Chloe returned.

"Humph. He's got Lana for that."

Her eyes landed on the cheer leader, prancing around with her pom-poms. "Give me a C," she called out, "give me a L."

"Oh please I think I'm about to throw up," Lois muttered, taking a bite of her hotdog.

Clark had that lovesick look on his face. It was the only thing she couldn't figure out about him; his sad infatuation for Lana Lang. She felt like smacking that look off his face. It seriously annoyed her.

"Has Clark gotten around to asking Lana out yet?" Chloe asked beside her as she blew on her hands.

"What, Smallville," she half laughed, "He's slow and thick as molasses when it comes to the opposite sex."

And no it wasn't endearing, she quietly chided to herself. Clark was annoying. He whined when she took too long in the bathroom.

'_Are you nearly finished, Lois.'_

'_I'm washing my hair.'_

'_Why is it taking so long?'_

'_Because I have long hair, Clark.'_

It wasn't rocket science.

He got upset when she wore his clothes.

'_That's my shirt!'_

_She'd merely shrugged. 'All my clothes are in the laundry basket.'_

'_Lighten up Smallville, not like I'm going anywhere.'_

'_Unfortunately,' he muttered under his breath._

'_I heard that.' She punched him in the arm. 'I'll return it.'_

Though she hadn't. She strangely liked wearing his shirts. There was something to be said for plaid after all.

"So what's living with Clark Kent like?" Chloe asked, giving her a sideways glance.

Chloe seriously needed to get over her crush on him. Maybe they should go out more, check out guys that were not still in high school.

"Oh Clark is as straight and boring as they come," she shrugged, though not entirely true, there was certainly something … different about him in an endearing way. He also proved useful when it came to helping with her assignments.

"He's your typical boy scout," she continued. Well mannered, overly polite, thoughtful. She couldn't even recalling him swearing. He was everything … she wasn't.

She swore like a trooper, often making him stammer or blush.

"He doesn't even leave the toilet seat up," she mused, "I don't think I've even heard him fart yet."

Chloe giggled. "Neither have I."

"Mrs K is the best mom ever."

Chloe couldn't help feeling a tad envious. Clark was lucky to have a mom like that, and Lois living at the farm sort of bothered her. Not that she worried about Clark getting attached to Lois, not when he only had eyes for Lana, but she often wished it was her living at the farm. Lois was lucky and not even aware that she was. Her eyes rested on Clark. He was looking better than ever

"You still nagging him about his diet?" she asked.

"No," Lois scoffed.

"He's looking pretty fit."

"Now that Lana talks to him, he's always watching what he eats," Lois grumbled as she took another bite of her hotdog. "It's boring."

Chloe shot her a puzzled sideways glance.

"I'm not tempted to steal anything off him," she returned. "And I can't really call him tubby anymore."

Chloe couldn't always understand why Lois was like that with Clark. They were amusing to watch.

"You were the one on a mission to get him fit," she pointed out.

Lois sighed. "Yeah, and damn but I'm good."

Chloe rolled her eyes.

"I mean look at him," Lois pointed out, "half the girls in school have the hots for him."

Which is exactly what Chloe didn't want, even though she was happy for him, she told herself. He was starting to enjoy life again, but did he have to enjoy it on the football field and with Lana Lang?

She glanced up to find Lois watching her.

"You know what we need," Lois began, "We need to go out, have fun and pick up some guys."

Chloe screwed up her nose. "I don't know about picking up some guys, but having fun sounds good to me."

Naturally, Lois silently thought, and no thanks to Clark. But her next new mission was to work on Chloe getting over her feelings for Clark.

* * *

The game was soon over. Smallville High won of course. Clark played his usual best. Lois had to give him credit for that; he was good and soon to be the local school footy hero. Not only did he have Lana eyeing him off but a number of the cheer leaders. Lois could only imagine the bitchfest that went on in the change rooms afterwards. And Clark was totally impervious to all of it. But Chloe wasn't. Damn, but her cousin seriously needed to move on. She glanced across the field as she picked up her hand bag.

"Uh oh, Clark is closing in on Lana. Five bucks says he doesn't go through with it," she quipped.

She watched them engage in conversation, her eyes narrowing. Maybe she should just beat some sense into that thick head of his.

"Judging by the smile on his face I think he might just have asked her out and she said yes," Chloe muttered, despondently.

Yep she was definitely about to grill Clark out. But he disappeared somewhere with Pete afterwards.

Chloe dropped her home. She was too tired to wait up and went to bed. There was always tomorrow. She set her alarm so she wouldn't miss breakfast. It was even more fun making him squirm in front of Mrs K.

* * *

Clark was on cloud nine. He finally summoned up the nerve to ask Lana out and she said yes. After all these years. He could hardly believe it. The other football players treated him with respect now, except Chad, but Clark didn't care.

Lana liked him.

The coach had nothing but praise for him.

Pete was happy because now girls were looking at them. They were part of the 'in group', and were invited back to Sam's house for drinks afterwards. A beer was shoved into his hand. He didn't think twice.

Pete's eyes widened. "Since when do you ever drink?"

"Um, Lois."

Pete grinned. "Yeah man she'd be enough to drive anyone to drink."

Her teasing taunts came to mind; _'It's not poison, Smallville.'_ He smiled to himself.

"Yeah I guess but she brought me a beer, she didn't drive me to drink."

Pete shot him a curious glance.

"Her idea of a surprise," Clark continued.

Pete looked impressed. "Cool surprise," he said with approval.

He hadn't thought so at the time but now in hindsight, maybe it was. He wouldn't look so uncool if he didn't refuse a beer. Lois' other words also came back to mind; _"never drink on an empty stomach.'_

He hadn't had anything to eat for a few hours. Still, one beer couldn't hurt. But one soon became two. He could feel a bit of a head rush. It kind of felt good. He was more relaxed, and able to socialise without the usual awkwardness.

"So here's to the man of the game," Sam said out loud, holding up his beer.

Clark couldn't help feeling chuffed. He'd one day dreamed of not being a total loser, and for the first time he wasn't. This was turning out to be his year after all.

Sam approached him, handing him a glass with dark liquid in it.

"Ah thanks, what is it?" Clark stammered.

Sam smiled. "Coke."

Clark took a sip. Funny but it didn't taste just like coke. His eyes met Sam's.

"I just added a little whiskey to it," he shrugged. "C'mon lighten up Kent, this is your night."

Four cokes mixed with who knew how much whiskey later, Clark wasn't feeling so good. The room started spinning at an alarming rate. He somehow managed to find Pete, grabbing him by the arm.

"You need to get me out of here."

Pete turned to him, concern crossing his face. "Whoa Clark you're looking … bad."

He helped him to the Ute. "I'll drive," he suggested, "I've only had two beers."

Clark was seriously now wishing he'd done the same. What had he been thinking? It wasn't like him, but then he'd never been in such an environment before. Maybe the whole praise thing had gone to his head?

* * *

Lois was almost asleep, snuggled up under Clark's doona, in Clark's bed and she was going to kill him tomorrow. Okay maybe that was a bit too much, make his life a living hell sounded a better option. A rock hitting the window startled her. What was with that? She'd no sooner processed the thought when another rock hit the window. Scrambling out of bed, she yanked the window open.

"Pete," she squinted, peering down at him. What was he doing here?

"I need your help," he called back softly.

Had something happened to Clark? Hurriedly pulling on a pair of tracksuit pants and sweater she silently went downstairs, opening the back door.

Pete was waiting, looking rather anxious and causing her to worry even more.

"What's happened," she blurted out, "Where's Clark? Is he alright?"

"In a manner of speaking," Pete replied, running a hand up the back of his neck, a sheepish look crossing his face, "he's just a bit … drunk."

Lois went still in disbelief. "Clark's drunk?"

Was she hearing things? Goody two shoe's Clark … had been drinking? "How?"

Pete took her by the arm and led her to the Ute. "Sam asked us back to his house along with a number of other players, we were drinking beer but I swear Clark only had two."

"He's drunk on two beers?"

"I thought he was drinking coke but I think they might have added a bit more to it."

Just terrific. Mrs K wouldn't be happy.

"Where is the farm boy?"

"In the Ute."

Pete pulled the door open but there was no Clark inside.

"Oh this just gets better," she growled.

Where the hell had he gone? She could hardly yell out his name without waking up his mom. A loud crash from the barn filled her in on his whereabouts. She ran towards the barn, Pete on her heels. Dashing up the wooden steps she found him sitting in the loft window, both doors open. At this rate he was going to fall out. She could imagine explaining it to his mom. 'Oh by the way Mrs K, Clark broke his neck by falling out the loft'.

Oh crap.

"Clark," she exclaimed, rushing over to him, hastily pulling the wooden shutter's back into place and locking them. "You want to fall out."

"It's … f-fine," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I can't get hurt."

Okay so he really was drunk. And he looked it. No way could she chance taking him into the house like this.

"W-Well … actually I can now."

His words puzzled her. What the hell was he talking about? She turned to Pete, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"He's been saying some crazy stuff."

She frowned. "Like what?"

"He's an alien from another planet."

Lois snorted, Alien, yeah right. Then it clicked, his story.

"I think Smallville just has his wires crossed at present, he's been writing this story about this boy who is an alien."

Pete nodded and yawned. "Since when did Clark write stories?"

He was a bit of a riddle at times. "Go home, I can handle him."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "I'm an expert when it comes to dealing with drunk's."

"Thanks Lois."

Pete left the barn and Lois returned her attention to Clark. Alright she had to get him relatively sober again, ASAP.

"Clark," she began, grabbing him by the arm, "Let's get you onto the sofa."

Away from the window before he did anything stupid, like getting the notion to fly or something, which wouldn't be farfetched seeing he currently believed himself to be an alien.

He managed to get to his feet, swaying, she steadied him with her hands. Again cursing the fact he was drunk, just how had that happened? "Did you eat anything tonight?" she asked.

"Hmm n-no."

"Clark!" she exclaimed. "I told you not to drink on an empty stomach!"

She tugged him towards the sofa annoyed.

"Sor-ry, Lois."

Shoving him onto the sofa, he landed with a thud, his head just missing the coffee table. Leaning over him, she pointed a finger in his face. "Stay here!"

He caught her hand in his. "You're a good friend, L-Loish."

"You won't think so in the morning," she muttered under her breath, which he didn't appear to hear. He still had hold of her, his eyes searching her face.

"Do you k-know … when you were … born?"

She frowned, confused, strange thing to ask. "Of course Smallville, who doesn't?"

Shadow's flickered in his eyes. "I-I don't."

Had he been taking drugs too? Maybe his drink was spiked. Because there was no way Clark would willingly take drugs. Oh crap. Surely no one would be stupid enough to do that; except Chad she silently fumed.

"Clark, your birthday is next month, the 8th of December, you'll be 18."

He blinked. "Could already be 18."

She shook her head. "I'm going to get you a glass of water and don't you dare move from that sofa."

Lois hurried back to the house. She really could do without this hassle. And if Mrs K found out … double crap is what would happen.

Of course Clark wasn't on the sofa when she returned to the loft.

"God you're a pain when drunk, Smallville," she muttered, placing the glass on the desk.

She turned around to find him sitting in the corner, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs.

He looked lost in another world. For a moment she was mesmerised by the pain in his eyes. Her heart sunk; what now? If she ever found out that Chad had done this to Clark, she would kill him.

She approached him, crouching down till she was eye level. "Clark," she spoke.

There was no answer. He really was elsewhere, and a sudden panic hit her.

"Clark!" she said again, more forcibly.

Still nothing.

Placing both hands on either side of his head, she tilted his face up, noticing the tears that tricked down his cheeks.

"I-If I had been … normal," came his laboured breathing. "My d-dad … wouldn't have died."

What did he mean? "Of course your normal, Clark. It was an accident."

There was such sorrow in those beautiful eyes. He shook his head, muttering, "No. No accident," taking a deep shuddering breath his pain filled eyes met with hers, "he was trying to protect me, a-and I … couldn't save him."

Talk about survivor's guilt, he'd obviously been lugging that around for years. She tenderly ran her hands through his hair in an attempt to calm him. "That's what parents do, Clark."

"You don't understand, Lois," he murmured, "I-I'm not from here."

Not this again. She pressed her finger to his lips. "I need to get you on that cosy sofa in the lounge room so you can sleep this off."

And hope to God that he'd been returned to normal in the morning. Grabbing his hands in hers, she tugged at them. "Help me out here, Clark."

Somehow she managed to get him to his feet. Next thing she knew he'd wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Just terrific. But she let him. He probably wouldn't' even remember doing this in the morning. Least she hoped not!

Truth was she felt a bit shaken seeing him in this state. It wasn't right. Clark was always predictable, reliable and did the right thing. He might get embarrassed easily, which is why she loved teasing him, but he was rarely emotional. He had his moments, just that there his were a lot less than everyone else's. As for the whole alien thing, she'd dealt with plenty of enough drunks and had never encountered such delusions. It had to be drugs. It's something she wouldn't put pass Chad either. The creepy egomaniac bastard.

Lois managed to get Clark down the wooden stairs and outside, holding his hand tightly in hers. No way was she letting him go.

"You have to be quiet, Clark," she whispered to him.

Which he … surprisingly was. She turned to face him once they reached the back door. He really looked out of it making her heart twist in a weird way she couldn't explain. He was trembling. It's because it was cold, that's all it was she tried to reassure herself. Resting her hands on his shoulders she gazed up into his face.

"Clark," she began, "Look at me."

His eyes slowly met hers, a smile crossed his face. "Lois."

That was something at least. But then his face twisted in pain. His trembling grew worse. Instant worry hit her hard in the stomach.

"What is it?" she gasped, clutching him by his shirt.

He shook his head. "I-I don't know."

"We need to get you inside, out of the cold," she quickly spoke, pushing the door open and half dragging him through it.

Her heart hammered in her chest. This wasn't normal. Unless Clark had a reaction to alcohol? Either way the sooner he was on that couch the better.

By the time they reached the couch he was shaking uncontrollably.

"Lie down," she instructed, her breath catching in her throat at the obvious distress etched into his face.

What the hell was wrong with him? "Clark …" This was turning out to be the night from hell.

Taking a deep sigh, she felt him relax slightly. He sat, more like fell back on the sofa. She made him lie down, slipping his shoes off and pulling the doona over him relieved.

Finally he was on the sofa and the worst had to be over, and just don't think it Lois, she berated. It was never over till the fat lady sang. So where was this mysterious fat lady when she needed her?

Clark was still trembling as if he couldn't get warm.

She gently stroked his hair. "It's alright, Smallville, just go to sleep."

His dark eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks.

* * *

_He was standing knee deep in snow. A chilly breeze ripped through his clothes. There was snow as far as the eye could see. The landscape was so empty, devoid of anything but snow and rocky mountains. _

_The sky was a brilliant blue. _

_Where was he?_

_He shivered. How had he ended up here?_

'_Kal-el,' came a voice out of nowhere. _

_He spun around wildly, but there was no one. He was completely alone. A deep seated fear resided in the pit of his stomach. 'Show yourself!' _

_The wind howled around him, empty and forlorn. This was all wrong. He didn't belong here._

'_What do you want from me?!'_

'_Kal-el,' that faceless voice sent chills down his spine. 'You are the last of your kind.'_

_He shivered again. Last of what kind? None of this made any sense._

'_But something has happened to you. It needs to be put right. Your powers must be restored if you are to fulfil your destiny. You have to find a way.'_

'_No!' He didn't need his powers back, they had done nothing but cause him grief. He didn't want them. 'I'm Clark Kent!'_

_That's who he was. He was not Kal-el. Whoever that voice belonged to they had the wrong person._

_But the next words the voice uttered filled him with apprehension. 'You are not human. You are Kal-el, the last son of the house of El.'_

_No. No. No. This was just some crazy dream._

'_You are from Krypton. That was your home. You have a destiny. You will become this planet's saviour.'_

_Clark shook his head. 'No!' His voice broke off there. He took a deep breath. 'I-I … can't be, this is a mistake?'_

'_You must find the crystal, Kal-el,' the voice instructed. 'Or all hope is lost.'_

_He was suddenly engulfed in a fierce snow storm. It whirled around him, tearing at his clothes and hair. _

'_Find the crystal.' The voice was swept away into the white swirl. 'Learn who you really are.'_

He woke with a start. Heart pounding in his chest, along with other things, like his head. Raising a hand he ran it through his sweat drenched hair. The images of the dream still fresh in his mind, disturbing him. And what was that all about? Why did he feel in Lois' words, 'like crap'? Pushing the covers aside he slowly sat up.

_Kal-el … Kal-el … you are the last son of the house of El._

He shivered. It felt like a tiny dozen sharp, pointed knives were pressing into his skull. He groaned out loud and then his eyes rested on Lois.

He froze. Lois? She was asleep, curled up on the single seat sofa. What was she doing there?

How did he get here? Last thing he remembered was Pete helping him to the Ute. He'd been … sudden dread filled him. He'd been drinking.

Raking a hand through his hair, feeling angry with himself, his eyes rested on Lois. It didn't take much to put two and two together. Obviously she had helped him to the sofa. But why couldn't he remember anything?

Lois began to stir.

What did he say to her?

Her eyes opened and slowly looked his way. "Clark," she began suddenly, sitting up, worried eyes raking over him. "Are you alright now?"

It must have been bad to cause that worry on her face and in her voice.

He nodded, swallowing. "Yeah … I-I don't remember anything."

"You were …" her voice broke off there, she bit down on her lip, "let's just say you have quite the imagination when drunk."

His head shot up. What did she mean by that?

A small smile tilted up the corners of her mouth. "Alien boy."

His eyes widened with sudden shock. "W-What?"

Tilting her head to the side, she studied his face. "Hmm that was my reaction too."

His heart began pounding in his chest. He licked his dry cracked lips. What else had he said?

"I'm never drinking again," he muttered.

Her smile broadened. "Especially on an empty stomach," she added, then the smile left her face, her eyes narrowed, "What were you thinking, Clark!?"

"And you've never been drunk, Lois," he returned, defensively.

"Yeah but I don't have delusions about being an alien."

He took a deep breath, given the expression on her face she didn't believe it; thank god. Little did she know none of it was a delusion and it was every bit real.

"Are you sure no one spiked your drink?" she continued.

His mouth opened. "What … who would?"

She shook her head. "Because the way you were carrying on …" her voice broke off there. She took to studying his face again making him squirm in discomfort.

"W-Why, what did I do?"

He had to know and cursed his stupidity. That was the last time he let his ego go to his head.

"You said you didn't know when you were born," she began, ticking off a finger, "then you said you were not normal," she ticked off another finger, "you were blaming yourself for your father's death."

She glanced at him. "Nothing new there."

He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Damn. He really was never drinking again!

"And you scared the hell out of me when you started shaking, and couldn't stop," she continued, "by that time I had you on the sofa and then you fell asleep, luckily for you because I was about to get your mom, and then you know the shit would hit the fan." She stopped to take a breath, hands coming to rest on her lips.

He knew Lois well enough by now to know she was just getting started and the tirade would continue. She went on and on about how difficult he was, and if he ever did that again she'd gladly push him out the loft window. He watched her pace the small confines of the lounge room, his thoughts drifting back to the weird dream.

Was it a dream? It had felt so real. Maybe it was a vision. And what was that voice? Did it exist inside of his head? All that stuff about his destiny … what destiny. _'Find the crystal'. _ What crystal? He didn't know anything about a crystal, and as for his powers how was he supposed to fix that? He wouldn't even know where to begin, and he didn't want to.

"Are you listening to me, Clark?!"

His head shot up, eyes resting on Lois' annoyed expression, rubbing his forehead. He couldn't remember having a head ache like this before. His mouth felt like sand paper. It was hard to organise his thoughts.

"Sorry for ruining your night, Lois," he murmured. He was oddly touched that she'd stayed by his side. For her to do that meant she must have been really worried about him.

Muttering under her breath she disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water and two disprin.

"Here this should help," she spoke.

He took the disprin from her, popped them in his mouth. His hand shook as he tipped the glass to his lips.

"You look like death warmed up," she remarked.

"I feel it," he muttered, embarrassed that she had to see him this way.

He was always in control. Having his vulnerabilities exposed, blabbing about being an alien, left an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach despite her thinking he was being delusional. What if she hadn't? Of course, but why wouldn't she. He looked like everyone else. There was nothing special about him now he no longer had his powers. Just that he happened to come from another planet.

Krypton; _that was your home._

He recalled the words from his dream. Was it real?

He looked up to find Lois watching him.

"Now that you're this big football hero, Smallville, don't let it go to your head."

Clark considered that. She had a point. For a moment tonight he had basked in the praise and was now nursing a hangover.

"I kind of like the ordinary Clark Kent," she continued, surprising him.

"The one no one looks twice at."

"I guess they are just not looking hard enough but there is someone who has, and stuck by your side."

He knew where this was heading. "Chloe," he finished for her.

"Bingo."

He sighed, if only it was that easy. "But I don't have those feelings for her in that way."

"Maybe you need to look a little harder."

He frowned. "I can't help what I feel."

She snorted. "Depends of which head you think with."

Typical Lois reply, but it wasn't true. Not that he was about to argue with her, not in his present state. Given the look on her face he could tell she wasn't pleased with him.

"I guess you'll just have to learn the hard way," she shrugged, and glanced at the clock.

"It's only four, I can still get a couple more hours of sleep in."

She did look tired. He felt bad all over again. "Thanks for looking out for me, Lois."

He would have been screwed without her.

* * *

Clark managed to fall back asleep and was awoken by his mom. The smell of bacon sizzling in the frying pan caused his stomach to heave. That wasn't good. Why would anyone want to get drunk? It was horrible.

He stumbled to the shower in the hope it would make him feel normal again. It didn't.

Sneaking into his room he searched through his drawers for clean clothes to wear. His bedroom looked like a bomb had hit it. No thanks to Lois.

He still missed his room, and his bed.

Lois was snuggled under the doona, her hair spilling out across the pillow in tangled waves. He hastily pulled on a pair of jeans and shirt before she woke up. Tip toeing out of the room he walked into the bookcase, spilling half the contents on the floor.

He silently cursed under his breath.

Lois stirred.

Clark quickly evacuated the room before she woke up.

"I'm just going to do chores," he called out as he made his way towards the front door.

"Oh no you don't, Clark," his mom returned, "Breakfast first."

Sighing he walked to the kitchen and sat down, reaching for the jug of juice.

Lois plonked herself at the table, much to his dismay. He was hoping to avoid her.

She looked his way. He didn't like the evil glint in her eyes. She was up to something, or was about to give him a hard time; yet again.

His mom sat down at the table, he grabbed a piece of toast. Lois piled her plate with bacon, scrambled eggs, toast and well everything she could.

"So," she began, taking a bite of her toast. "You and Lana looked cosy last night."

And there is was.

"Lana," his mom began, eyes meeting with his. "You've not mentioned her before."

But before he had to chance to speak, Lois interrupted. "Head cheer leader, pretty, every boy in high school has the hot's for her."

He felt like throttling her. He saw puzzlement in his mom's eyes. "I thought you liked Chloe?"

"I do, but we're just friends." He placed a strong emphasis on the word 'friends' and shot Lois a pointed look.

"No accounting for taste," she muttered.

He lowered his fork. She certainly wasn't shy in expressing her opinions.

"I know you don't like Lana," he began.

Lois shoved a forkful of eggs in her mouth, shrugging. "I don't dislike her, don't even know her, just she seems …" her words broke off there, "Not your type."

He shot her an annoyed look. "And you would know my type?"

Martha watched the two of them argue back and forth, amused. Lois was right, Lana wasn't his type. Clark's type was sitting right in front of him and he didn't even know it. Neither did Lois. She sighed and shook her head.

"I asked her out and she said yes," Clark stated.

It wasn't often Martha saw him so defensive. Lois was good at getting him in to that state.

"Good for you, Clark," Lois retorted. "I guess you can spend your evening talking about pompoms, and how great you are, and then you can tell her how pretty she is. She'll bat her eyelashes at you and you'll feel that hot adolescence puberty flush boys get."

Martha tried not to smile at Clark's disgruntled expression. Then she noticed how unusually pale he looked this morning. He really hadn't been himself either. She always had been acutely in tune to where her son was at.

"Are you feeling alright, Clark?" she asked. "You've hardly eaten a thing."

He exchanged a knowing look with Lois, before glancing her way. "I'm fine, just not hungry."

"Now that Clark has the hot's for Lana he's all self-conscious about his weight," Lois piped up.

Trust Lois to give her two bits worth. He glared at her. She grinned, putting another forkful of scrambled eggs in her mouth. "He thinks he's too fat."

"Is this true, Clark?" his mom asked, looking concerned.

Could Lois be any more annoying? Was this payback for last night? Or her being mad because he wasn't dating Chloe? He didn't understand her.

"No," he returned, but he could see his mom was now critically assessing him.

"You have lost a lot of weight," she continued.

He noticed the amusement dancing in Lois' eyes and shook his head. "I'm at training four days a week for two hours."

"Then you should be eating more," she pointed out, reaching for the tongs and placing two bits of bacon on his plate.

He stared down at it, his stomach hurling. This was all Lois' fault. She knew how hangover he was.

Forcing a smile to his lips he muttered. "Thanks, mom."

"Hmm, maybe I should start monitoring what you eat now Lois has brought it to my attention," she declared.

He inwardly groaned, and shot Lois a glare. She merely smiled in that infuriating way of hers.

* * *

Poor Clarkie, she really was giving him a hard time this morning. But she was pissed off with him. For one, he had worried the clappers out of her last night. And two, his stupid infatuation with Lana Lang, and three, now she was sorry she'd ever suggested he get fit.

If she had known it would end like this, she wouldn't have! Not only that but she couldn't figure out why he was bugging her so much. Why should she care who he dates? Chloe was a big girl, she could take it.

She spent the afternoon shopping with Chloe, filling her in about Clark's antics last night, omitting certain facts along the way. She told her that he did have a date with Lana, and how smug he was about it. By the time they sat down to have a coffee, Chloe glanced at her, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"You know Lois all you have done is talk about Clark for the last hour."

"No I haven't," she scoffed.

"If I didn't know any better I could almost swear you like him."

"Yeah right," she snorted, sipping her latte. "And talking about Clark maybe it's time you moved on."

Chloe shrugged. "I'll always be his friend."

"Even if he starts going out with Lana?"

"Why should that change anything?"

Her poor little cousin was so naïve at times. "Because he'll be too busy with her. You just wait, it's only a matter of time before he tells you that he can no longer work at the Torch."

Chloe went strangely quiet and the penny clicked. "Don't tell me," she began, feeling outraged.

"He just said he couldn't be as committed because of his training, and between that and his farm chores he didn't have the time."

Lois sat there, fuming. She began stirring her coffee with her spoon in an agitated manner.

"Don't begrudge him, Lois," Chloe continued, "It's his last year of high school and I'm happy for him, you haven't been here these last three years. You didn't see him become this recluse after his father died."

"He still blames himself," Lois softly spoke, as memories of his pain streaked face came to mind. "He said some strange stuff last night."

Chloe frowned. "Like what?"

"He said if he'd been normal his father wouldn't have died."

Chloe went sort of still, puzzling her. "You know something I don't cus?"

She slowly shook her head. "No, just there was a time I thought there was something more to him."

Lois curiosity was piqued now.

"He had this habit of suddenly just disappearing and reappearing across town, it was weird."

"I've never see him do that."

"No that was years ago," Chloe dismissed, but Lois noticed the reflective look on her face.

"And there's more?"

She glanced up. "I investigated his adoption by the Kent's and let's just say they were pretty reticent when it came to his actual adoption procedure. So I dug a little deeper."

Lois was all ears now, what big mystery could there possibly be about Clark Kent?

"His adoption was done through Metropolis United Charities," Chloe continued, "But what was most strange was they were only in business for six months, and Clark's was the only adoption they handled."

That was a bit strange, but hardly earth shattering news, Lois mused.

"What surprised me even more was Clark's reaction when I told him," Chloe pointed out. "He got really mad about it."

"But the adoption is legit?" Lois asked.

Chloe nodded. "Yes."

"And he has a birth certificate?"

A puzzled smile crossed Chloe' face. "Doesn't everyone?" She frowned. "Why?"

Lois shook her head. "Oh no reason."

It was obviously a spiked drink that had Clark going looney last night. "So why did Smallville get angry at you."

Chloe shrugged a shoulder, sipped her coffee. "I have no idea, you know Clark is often emotionally distant when it comes to certain things."

Except when he drinks, Lois mused. The funny thing about Clark is that beneath his placid farm boy image there was a whole lot of other stuff going on there. That made him interesting in a way.

* * *

Clark had been waiting for this moment for three years. He didn't know what to expect, well he had built up a number of different expectations over the years. Played out a number of fantasies in his head, which he thought would only ever be that. Now that it was about to happen he felt nervous.

It didn't help having Lois tease him about it. Luckily she went out with Chloe for the day.

He'd spent that day trying to remember anything from the previous night and his drunken escapades but there was nothing. The only thing he remembered was the dream. It played on his mind throughout the course of the day.

He hadn't even told his mom about it yet. He still needed time to process the information.

Lana proved a handy distraction that night. They went to the movies, watched a film he could barely concentrate on. The only thing he could think about was her. Did he chance holding her hand? Was it too soon? She leaned in closer towards him, he caught a waft of her perfume. She smelled really good.

Afterwards they went for coffee. She did most of the talking, about living with her Aunt Nell, high school, being a cheer leader. They talked about their favourite subjects at school, what teachers they liked and who they didn't like. It was nice. He began to relax a bit towards the end of the evening.

"You don't say much about yourself," she observed, nibbling on a biscuit. "Most guys are always boosting about themselves."

"There's not a lot to say," he replied.

She leaned across the table, gazing into his eyes. "C'mon Clark, there has to be something?"

He scratched his head. "You know farm life, it's pretty tedious, there's just me and my mom now, oh and Lois."

Lana frowned slightly. "Lois?"

"She needed a place to stay, so she's living with us at the moment."

"Oh," Lana began.

"We are just friends," he quickly added, "Not to mention she's really annoying, uses up the hot water, bosses me around all the time." He recalled this morning, thanks to her his mom was now watching everything he ate.

A slow smile crossed Lana's face, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "She sounds like an annoying sister."

"Yeah, that's sums it up."

"I wish I had a sister or brother," she said, wistfully. Her eyes rested on him. "Hey that's something we have in common, Clark."

Great, they finally had something in common, apart from liking English and History. And she was nice, not as shallow as Lois made her out to be.

However, tiredness soon got the better of him. He couldn't stop yawning by the time he dropped Lana home.

"I'm sorry," he stammered, "I had a bad night sleep."

She smiled sweetly at him. "It's okay, I have them too."

She did? "How come?" he asked, suddenly curious.

"I have nightmares sometimes."

He didn't need to ask, he already knew it was probably of her parents. He still felt bad about that, as if it was all his fault.

"Yeah, so do I."

He walked her to the front door. She turned to him once on the porch. "I had a lovely night, Clark."

"Me too," he agreed, "We should do this again, and soon."

Her smile widened. "I'd like that."

She was so close he could almost lean towards her and kiss her. Too soon. He didn't want to freak her out. He needed to take this slowly.

"I'll see you at school on Monday," he breathed.

"I hope you have a better night sleep tonight," she smiled, and leaning towards him she kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight," she whispered, her breath tickling his neck.

He stood rooted to the spot, surprised, and not knowing what to do next. Finally finding his voice he said goodnight back and walked to the Ute.

Great going Clark, he silently berated. She must think you are completely clueless, which he was. Why couldn't he just be cooler?

Still, nothing could dampen his good mood, not even Lois, who happened to be pouring herself a glass of milk as he walked through the back door of his house. She was wearing her boy pyjamas and bunny slippers.

"So how did your date go?" she asked, sounding almost sincere. Did she really care?

"It was great," he returned, reaching for a glass from the cupboard. "We saw a movie, had coffee and talked, well she did most of the talking."

"Naturally, you are not the chattiest person," Lois snorted, "Except when drunk," she quipped, a teasing smile on her lips.

He shook his head. "I'm never drinking again."

"Probably a good idea, Smallville. Doesn't suit you."

Filling his glass with water he turned around to find her watching him. She was still here? Of course she was. It was Lois, no doubt she wanted to get her 'teasing quota' before she went to bed.

"Have you kissed her yet?" she casually asked.

Was she serious? "No," he stammered, "It's the first date."

Just because she went around kissing boys at random, didn't mean he was about to follow suite.

She just shrugged as she took a sip of her milk. "Sounds boring."

He glared at her.

"Oh well, at least you can say you've kissed a girl," she smirked.

"What? You?"

Amusement sparkled in her eyes. Pretty. No … what she was … was annoying.

"It was hardly a proper kiss, Lois," he scoffed.

Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Uh oh, he knew that look in her eyes. Lowering her glass on the bench she approached him, smiling. He swallowed. A protest was about to form on the tip on his tongue, but something stopped him. She was so damn cocky. For once he wasn't going to let her get the upper hand.

"Let me fix that for you, Clark."

Lois was expecting him to step back, protest loudly, but he just stood there, eyes sort of challenging. Without really thinking twice about it she pressed her lips against his. No doubt he would be pulling back. But he didn't. Hmm, he tasted like iced coffee. His lips were soft and then they parted slightly, hesitatingly. Quite suddenly he was kissing her back. For someone that had never done this before he was sure good at it. The way his lips roamed over hers, not in a pushy or demanding way. It was kind of sweet and tender, mingled in with a hint of shyness too. It was … oddly enjoyable.

Get a grip Lois, she silently chided. Time to end this. She pulled back. "What was with that?" she exclaimed.

She noted the uncertainty reflected in his eyes. "Was it bad?"

Ah … she didn't have the heart to lie to him. "No."

A relieved smile hovered on his lip. Oh crap. Why did he have to be so darn cute?

"Was that like a trail run before you kiss Lana?" she demanded, trying to gather her wayward thoughts into a semblance of order.

His cheeks reddened slightly. "You started it, Lois."

She folded her arms, needing to put some distance between them. That kiss … had caught her by surprise. But it was Clark Kent for Christ's sake! Goody two shoes, boy-scout Smallville that Chloe had a crush on, not her. Nope, no way, she refused to lower herself to teenage crushes.

"Oh well, consider yourself prepared," she quipped, punching him in the arm for good measure. "Just don't do it again."

He raised an eyebrow. "I won't if you won't." There was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Huh, so now it was just being cocky. For a wild crazy moment she felt like kissing him senseless till he begged her to stop. Then he'd be sorry, then … Her lips tingled at the thought. Bad idea, very bad idea!

Oh crap.

"Not in this lifetime, Smallville," she huffed, "I'll see you in the morning."

Clark frowned, he could almost swear she was a bit flustered. For once he had caught her unawares and it felt good. So did the kiss. His frown deepened.

"Goodnight Lois," he murmured, and watched her disappear up the stairs.

Why was it so easy to kiss her when he couldn't even bring himself to kiss Lana? He would be changing that on their next date. He was going to kiss her, and it would be even better than his kiss with Lois. Because … well that kiss was … nice. And Lois was an expert at kissing, probably why. She seemed to enjoy it. If he had to be completely honest so did he. The way her lips yielded beneath his … it was … best forgotten. He'd chalk it up to experience. As always with Lois she was completely unpredictable at times. He yawned and stumbled to the couch, pulled his shirt off and almost fell on to the couch in relief. A good night sleep is what he needed. His head had been in a muddled state all day. As he closed his eyes, fatigue washed over him.

A voice echoed in his head; _Find the crystal, Kal-el.'_

He choose to ignore it. He didn't want to know about destiny.

He just wanted to live his life as any other normal young man.

He wasn't special.

He was just Clark Kent.

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* * *

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**A/N: **Thank you for reading! I know the Lana scene was a bit painful but there are not too many more of them to come, and it is mostly about Clark and Lois.

Love to read what people think so send me a review and let me know what you liked about the chapter, and/or what you would like to see.

I'm trying to keep this story as original as possible, but at the same time not taking it too far out of canon either. I know my other story is more popular than this one, but I also really enjoy writing this story too. I'll be writing the next chapter to that other story straight after this but it will probably be a week before that happens. Life just happens to be insanely busy at the moment.

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